


The Small One

by ItS_COol_GuY



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Modification, Fights, Gladiators, Holt Reunion, M/M, Matt is a meme, Mind Control, Minor original character deaths, Multi, Shatt, Shatt really starts ch 9, Slow Burn, robot hands, shitt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-11-02 17:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 72,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10948935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItS_COol_GuY/pseuds/ItS_COol_GuY
Summary: Matt isn’t strong. In fact, he’s spent the last few years at the Garrison pretending to have an asthma attack whenever they did anything physical. He has his intellect, a loving family, and a fantastic best friend. For Matt, that’s enough. But when he’s taken by the Galra during an expedition to Kerberos and forced into a world of gladiator fights and universal domination, the things he had can’t help him anymore. Matt needs to learn how to really fight if he wants to reunite with the people he loves.OR: Matt gets separated from Shiro and forced to fight in the gladiator arena instead of being sent to a work camp.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!

The tallest of the three boys slammed Matthew Holt into the Garrison lockers as if he weighed little more than a gym bag. Without an ounce of pity, he allowed the small boy to unceremoniously crumple to the floor at his feet before using the tip of his boot to lift Matt’s face to meet his own. Furious dull grey eyes met with an indignant pair of golden brown, and a saccharine smile stretched across the taller boy’s face.

“We’re gunna to give you one more chance, nerd. Apologize or we’re gunna get some combat training in with your face as the target,” the bully sneered, clearly reveling in the power he had over Matt. Behind him, his cronies chortled and made a big show of cracking their knuckles. This only seemed to fuel the fire as the front man’s smile widened.

The small brunette said nothing and gritted his teeth, face ablaze with embarrassment and fury. A wave of trembles racked his body, letting the older boys know how he really felt. Scared. He quickly thought through his options and convinced himself that doing nothing really was the best plan of action, he wasn't just being a coward. If he opened his mouth it would only provoke them, and fighting was out of the question. 

He mentally probed the throbbing pain in his back, taking stock of the sharp ache in his shoulders where a bruise was likely already blossoming. He thought to himself how it was times like this where he wished more than anything he was blessed with a rockin’ bod in addition to his rockin’ brain. To try and calm his nerves he joked with himself. “Curse my noodle arms,” he berated himself, “Being smart is great and all, but it’s a lot more difficult to dismantle your enemies with invective wit when they are too dimwitted to get your insults.” He couldn't stop the smile that graced his lips.

A swift kick to Matt’s stomach brought him back from his inner monologue, and he cried out in pain as he mentally catalogued bruise number two for the day. 

“What’s so funny dweeb, huh? Do you _want_ us to bash your face in?” His ribs were met with another kick and Matt silently swore. He really needed to learn to control himself. 

“I’m countin’ to 5, and you’d better be beggin’ for my forgiveness when I hit 0.” The sneering smile on the bully’s face was replaced by one reflecting only pure intent. Matt knew what was coming, and he made his peace. “You’ve had a good run Matt, ol’ buddy ol' pal. Really stuck it to the man this time around.” Another short laugh escaped him as he pushed himself off the floor, gripping his aching side and leaning against the lockers.

“Five.” Matt straightened up. If he was going down, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him look nervous. He’d be keeping his pride intact, thank you.

“Four.” Once again indigent golden brown met furious dull grey. The two numbskulls in back began rocking on the balls of their feet, their anticipation palpable.

“Three.” An unsuspecting student rounded the corner and takes in the sight before him. Shock and rage registered on his face as he recognized the shaggy, light brown hair of the boy pressed against the lockers. Instantaneously he began jogging to the four students.

“Tw-“

“Whats going on here Randy?” The voice sounded directly behind the surprised trio, and they turned to take in their guest. The bravado they exuded fell immediately.

“Oh, Shiro. Why are you here?”

Matt perked up at the name and peaked around the wall of men before him. Lo and behold, there was Takashi Shirogane, the Garrison’s very own Golden Boy, his teammate, and his best friend. The tall, muscular figure placed his hands on his hips and raised his brows. He stood a good foot taller than Matt, and his unmatched skill demanded respect throughout the Garrison. Matt knew he should feel incredibly thankful, but Shiro had been intervening in these little squabbles more and more often. Matt was beginning to feel like a burden, likening himself to a princess constantly in need of saving. It was embarrassing, especially when the knight doing the saving could solve problems so effortlessly while Matt stood by useless.

Cocking his head to the side, Shiro’s calm expression never left his face. However, the anger in his voice betrayed his emotions. “I need to speak with Matt about a class project, would you excuse us?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it.” The threesome clearly realized the battle wouldn't one sided, so they turned to leave, replacing their maleficence with bored indifference. Their leader lazily raised his hand in a mock solute before peaking over his shoulder. “Catch you later, Matt.” And they were gone down the hall.

Shiro watched them leave before turning back to Matt, hands still firmly placed on his hips, eyebrow raised. “Matt, what did you do this time?”

This was the part Matt was good at, hiding the damage from his friend. He went slack-jaw and mockingly placed a hand over his heart in shock, “PUH, me? Victim-blaming, are we? Takashi, my friend, you should know by now it is never my fault. I am as pure as the winter’s snow.” 

“Matt.”

“Honestly, you didn't even need to step in, I was handling it well. Ever the diplomat, am I. I’m sure you understand.”

“Matt…”

“Realistically, I _wanted_ to be punched. That was the end game, Shiro. So who's the real winner? It is I. HAZZAH!” 

Matt had a tendency to gesture wildly as he spoke, making his conversations as visually entertaining as they were content wise. At this point his gestures had gotten out so of control, he was getting dangerously close to hitting Shiro. By the end of his tirade, though, he’d broken the older boy’s solemn mask. The teen laughed and placed his face in his hands before shaking it back and forth. 

“Oh my God, Matt, just tell me what happened before I hit you myself.” The smile that lit up his face was rare and lopsided. Not the polite version he often wore, but something less practiced. Matt reveled in the fact that he was one of the few who could get this response from Shiro, and did his best to keep it there. He pushed off the lockers, making an effort to hide how difficult the action was for him. The pain was intense, but he’d be damned if he worried Shiro more than he already was. And so, Matt continued to joke.

“Well… Randy and his goons approached me and said that they _knew_ how much I loved academia, and that they were willing to allow me to do their midterm research projects if I asked nicely.” He turned to Shiro, “A very gracious offer on their part, mind you. I, however, told them exactly where they could shove their midterm research projects.”

“MATT!” 

Shiro practically guffawed as the two boys began walking back to their dorm. Matt shrugged and looked up at Shiro. “What can you do honestly. I was either doing the projects or getting whooped, and I at least wanted to go out with a bang!”

Shiro smashed his hand on top of Matt’s head and violently ruffled his hair, eliciting a squeak from the smaller boy as his large framed glasses slipped off his face and into his hands. As much as he hated seeing Matt hurt, Shiro knew the boy was right. There was no way to get the tormenting to stop, short of Shiro just following Matt around or tattling. Shiro respected Matt’s strength in the face of that fact, and respected his wishes to keep the bullying a secret from the Garrison and his father. Matt had made it clear that he didn't want anyone to think of him as cowardly, and, as unathletic as he was, Matt was stubborn.

Shiro sighed. “They’re going to kill you someday, and then I’ll have to fill out all that paperwork for a new partner.”

“I am _touched_ by how much you care,” Matt deadpanned as he placed his large glasses back on his face. “By the way, have you applied for the Kerberos expedition yet? My father and the board have begun reviewing the applications, and I definitely put in a good word for you. Three Michelin stars. I think it would be a great time, honestly. ‘Team Shatt’ boldly going where no man has ever gone before.” He punctuated that point by punching his fist in the air, and looked to Shiro.

__

“Okay. One: _Never_ refer to us as “Team Shatt” _ever_ again. Two: Yes, everything is submitted and I’m feeling really good about it.” Shiro smiled at his friend, and Matt beamed back.

“Sick… On a serious note, would you prefer “Team Shitt”? I’d offer “Team Miro” but it's a little bland for my liking.”

“MATT!”

———

Matt remembered the day he met Shiro well. He’d seen him around the Garrison a lot before that, talking with teachers and other students, and was impressed by Shiro’s ability to get along with literally everyone. Not only that, but he was someone other’s listened to, looked up to even. 

Matt was the polar opposite. Having been accepted into the Garrison at a younger age than his classmates, he entered without a group of friends. Most of the students ignored him, but a few were openly hostile. Not that he _didn't_ have any friends, he did, they just tended to be people he met online that shared his proclivity towards technology. Realistically, his best friend up until this point had been his younger sister, Katie, who, he proudly claimed, was like a smaller, more ballsy version of himself.

However, when Shiro sat across from Matt and introduced himself as the pilot of Matt’s team, he was surprised by how quickly Shiro broke his barriers down. Within an hour the two were joking and laughing, bonding over their shared love of Will Smith and Dippin’ Dots. Their third partner, a short girl with a mane of red hair, hardly ever attended class or group meets, leaving Shiro and Matt to spend a lot of time on their own. Before long, the two considered themselves close friends, opting to spend time with each other outside of class as well. That had been two years ago.

So, when the two learned that Shiro would be piloting for the Holt’s Kerberos exploration, they were ecstatic. 

“It’s going to be like a super long sleepover with the theme of discovering extraterrestrial lifeforms! I’m going to stock up on spoopy stories to tell by flashlight, and I expect you to do the same, Shiro. GAH! I can’t wait!” Matt was gushing as he shoveled their celebratory lunch of burgers and fries into his mouth. Shiro sat across from him, food untouched as he intently complied a list of things he would be packing for the trip.

Matt continued, waving fries around as he spoke, “What if we find, like, living microorganism? Kerberos is largely ice, but who knows what evolution could have produced. That would be nearly irrefutable evidence for life outside of our galaxy! We may even be able to stimulate the evolutionary process in a simulated environment, creating…”

“Matt,” Shiro cut him off with a smile, “I am just as excited as you, trust me, but you're rambling and you really need to plan what you're going to pack. We’re buying supplies in like an hour.”

And they did, and the weeks leading up to the mission flew by until the day of their departure. Matt bid his mother and sister goodbye.

“Goodbye Kat, don't miss me too much, all right? And don't you dare finish watching Vikings without me.” Matt joked as he hugged his sister goodbye. The trip would only last a few months, but he knew this was actually going to be really hard on the both of them.

“No promises, but I’ll try my best.” She laughed as she hugged him back and handed him a recent photo of them both. “Love you Matt, and I wish I was going with you.”

He stuffed the photo into his shirt pocket. “I’ll keep this near my heart always” He promised solemnly, laughing as he stepped into the car and waved goodbye. “Love you guys! See you soon!”

The Holt’s parked outside Shiro’s house and watched as he hugged Keith goodbye. The two shared a quick and serious looking exchange that Matt could only assume was Shiro reminding Keith where all the emergency numbers were, and to make sure he turned off the stove. Matt laughed to himself as Keith gestured for Shiro to stop doting, and watched as Shiro turned and headed towards the car. With a wave, he shoved his bags into the trunk and hopped into the backseat of the Holt’s car, face brimming with excitement. 

Matt grinned back at him, “Next stop, Kerberos.”

———

The flight was long. Incredibly long. Samuel Holt spent his time completing the literature review portion of his Kerberos research article, so Shiro and Matt only had each other, board games, and an iPod for entertainment. Through Monopoly, "spoopy" story telling, and some serious sing-alongs, the two spent the rest of the flight as each other’s lifelines. Soon, however, they reached Kerberos.

Shiro held the ice extractor still as Matt knelt in front of it. Shiro had spent so much time with Matt these last few months that he could read his friend like an open book. Matt was scrunching his nose and taking measured breaths, and Shiro knew this was Matt’s way of trying to calm himself down. When Matt tried to slap himself on the cheeks to get focused, only to hit his space helmet, Shiro laughed. This was a habit of Matt’s that Shiro wasn't sure he even realized he did, and it was hilarious. Shiro loved watching his friend. He was incredibly animated, making every task, every statement, a bit of a performance. 

“Easy, son.  This ice is delicate.”  Samuel Holt warned as Matt pulled a cylinder of ice from the extractor. Shiro could see Matt was thrilled by the way he struggled to keep his hands steady.

“Amazing,” Matt sighed, “Isn’t this exciting Shiro?”

“You guys get a little more excited about ice samples than I do.”  Shiro chuckled, as the two scientists continued to stare at the cylinder in awe.

“This is history in the making,” Samuel explained, clearly hoping to get Shiro to share in their excitement. “Not only have we travelled farther than any human ever has, but this ice could hold microscopic clues about the existence of life outside Earth.” 

“Think of it Dad.  We could use those clues to become the first people to meet aliens.”  Matt was beaming, and Shiro couldn't help but smile at his friends excitement. He already knew they’d be talking about ice during their trip home _a lot_.  
   
“My life’s work would be complete.”  Samuel sighed happily.

The trio was literally shaken from their happy moment as the planet beneath them quaked.

“What is that? Seismic activity?” Samuel Holt asked, stepping closer to his son as a large shadow started to cover the three.

Shiro saw _it_ first. “We should get back to the ship.” He insisted, beginning to back away from the gargantuan purple space craft cresting the Kerberos.

Samuel and Matt turned to look, freezing as they saw what Shiro had. 

“Wha-what is that? It can't be!” Samual stuttered out as they took in something that shouldn’t exist. A point at the tip of the ship started glowing red, and Shiro panicked.

“Run. Come on run!” He was the first to come to his senses. He grabbed Matt by the back of the suit and forced the Holts to run alongside him. They were sprinting along the icy surface when the red light enveloped them. Soon their feet were no longer hitting ground as the trio was pulled into the air. There was nothing they could do but scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably post a few more chapters in the next few days because I have them all written out, I just need to proof read them and make some minor changes!
> 
> Also, a thanks to the Beta Reader "Sunny Lighter" from FF.net for helping me start my first real fic (:
> 
> Let me know what you think so far!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt struggles to get his bearings in the completely new and unpleasant environment of the Galran empire. 
> 
> This chapter _is_ less lighthearted than the last, but he did just get abducted by aliens.

Matt didn't remember blacking out, but he did remember being woken up by a sharp shock as a current of electricity hit him from behind. He gasped in pain and tried to get away from the attacker when he realized he couldn't move. His hands were bound before him, and somebody much stronger was holding his shoulders. 

“Whats going on? Where am I? Who are you? Where’s my father and Shiro?” Matt was starting to panic. His space suit was becoming claustrophobic, and the dark purple interior of the ship was suffocating. 

_The ship._

Matt remembered what happened and his breathing hitched. He gasped for air and doubled over, landing awkwardly on his face. 

“Quiet, small one,” he received another shock from behind. “Do not sleep again, we want you to walk.”

With that, Matt was yanked to his feet and turned. Before him he could see his dad being led through metallic doors obviously created for creatures much larger than them. Ahead of him, Shiro was being dragged unconscious along the floor, his helmet abandoned elsewhere. 

Matt took a moment to take in their captors. They were taller than humans, their clothing clearly for combat unlike those the Earthlings wore. They were furry and purple, and their eyes shone yellow and cat-like. Large guns laid across the creature's backs, and Matt’s breathing caught again.

They were the first people to meet aliens, but it wasn't at all what he'd imagined. 

Silent tears ran down his face, and he couldn't stop the hiccups that followed. Shit. He was scared.

They were led down a dark corridor with only the dull sound of echoing footsteps accompanying them. Eventually, they arrived at a room littered with metallic inspection tables and florescent lights. Each member of the trio was strapped to a table at the feet, waist, wrists, and head. Matt struggled to free himself from the bindings to no avail, and soon the guards left the prisoner’s in the hands of three cloaked individuals.

“These creatures are fragile and primitive. Would not Zarkon’s time be better spent elsewhere.” He heard one say to his right.

“Quiet, it is not on us to question the Emperor’s decisions. Now, let us see what they know.” One to his left warned, and Matt strained his eyes to see them.

“P-please,” He pleaded, “W-w-we don’t know anything, we didn't even k-know life existed outside of our planet until now. Please let us go!” Matt was blubbering, and he could already feel his face swelling up. A masked face appeared in his line of vision, and he yelped.

“Disgusting” it drawled and placed it’s hands on Matt’s face. Within moments he felt a searing pain start in his eyes and spread until his entire body felt like it was being peeled open. A scream was lodged in his throat as he writhed and clawed at the table beneath him looking for an escape. Moments later, he blacked out again. 

Matt’s dreams were filled with images of home and yellow eyes. He dreamed of the Holt clubhouse in back that Katie and him would tinker in, his first science fair award, his dog. He saw the Garrison lunchroom, and Shiro waving him over. He saw Katie beam proudly as she whooped him in a video game. However, the dreams weren’t peasant. They were mixed with the feeling of being dissected, the paranoia of being watched. Flashes of furry faces, yellow eyes, and sharp teeth were intermittently spread throughout Matt’s memories, tingeing them purple with fear. 

Matt doesn't know how long he was out, but he woke with a start laying on the floor.

He rubbed his temples and attempted to sooth the headache throbbing behind his eyes before sitting up. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't wearing his space suit or contacts anymore. Instead had on a black synthetic jumpsuit with a ragged purple T-shirt over it. When did he change?

“Matt?”

He squinted in the dark room to see Shiro sitting a few feet away, and was immediately overcome with relief. Behind Shiro, rows of unknown creatures sat huddled in each others arms. It was difficult to distinguish their characteristics without his glasses, but they were clearly not human.

“Shiro! I'm so glad you're okay! What’s going on? Where’s my dad?” Matt’s voice shook as he spoke and his eyes burned again. He put his face in his hands to calm himself before he spiraled into another panic attack. Moments later, Shiro’s arms were wrapped around him, easing his mind.

“Hey, look at me Matt. Hey, It’s going to be okay. They took your dad to a work camp because he can’t fight. The others say he is going to be fine. And we'll be fine too, right? Team Miro takes on an alien race.” 

“It’s Team Shatt or ‘The Kerber-Bros,’ dude. We’ve discussed this.” Matt couldn’t help but chuckle, his face buried in Shiro’s shirt. His friend was obviously trying to make him feel better, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t working. He drew back to give Shiro the goofiest smile he could muster, and the taller boy snickered before flicking him in the forehead. Just like that, they were back to being each other’s lifelines.

“What do you mean fight, though?” He questioned. 

Before Shiro could respond, the door to the cell opened revealing several armored guards. They pointed their guns at the prisoners and forced them into a line with Matt in front. The group was then led one after another into a huge arena filled with thousands of cheering aliens. At the center was a stage filled only by a massive creature with a weapon unlike any Matt had ever seen. It hummed and buzzed in the gladiator’s hand. 

Matt led the motley group on wobbling legs. He couldn’t fight. He knew that, Shiro knew that, and likely so did everyone else in that arena. He’d tried before, against people like Randy in the halls of the Garrison, and he always ended in a heap on the floor. He blinked. Wow, he was going to die.

The barrier to the area fell and the guard gestured for him to step forward. All of a sudden, the reality hit him full force. Surrounded by cheers for blood and violence, Matt began to fall apart.

“I’m not going to make it. I’ll never see my family again.” He was shaking violently and backing away from the ring as he struggled to catch his breath.

“You can do this.” Shiro was behind him with a reassuring smile. He sounded so confident, and Matt wanted desperately to believe him. The beast in the ring was the size of a house though, and Matt could hardly even see. This was it, he _was_ going to die today.

Shiro saw his friend fall to pieces before him and felt horrible. He was fully aware Matt wouldn't stand a chance against the gladiator, and he struggled to find a solution. He scanned the arena looking for something, anything he could use to make it so Matt couldn’t fight. When he spotted the sword, he immediately sprung into action, shoving Matt behind him as he rushed the guard ahead. He stole the weapon from its hands and turned back to Matt. 

“This is my fight!” He roared with a crazed look in his eyes. Matt was still on the floor trying to understand what was going on when Shiro sliced into his leg right below the knee. He yelled out before Shiro landed on top of him, face inches from his own. 

“I want blood!” He yelled into Matt's face, eliciting a horrified whimper from the smaller boy. 

Shiro’s face softened, only for a moment, and he looked at best friend for what would probably be the last time. His stomach turned, and he spoke so gently only Matt could hear above the roaring crowd,“take care of your father.” And with that, Shiro was dragged off of Matt and into the arena to fight the beast. 

It felt like the ground fell from beneath Matt’s feet as he realized what just happened. Shiro was saving him _again_ , but this time he wouldn't win with ease. This wasn't a group of bullies he could scare away, this was a giant! Shiro just gave up his own life for the sake of Matt’s, and Matt would be siting by uselessly scared and as weak as always.

“No,” he whimpered out. “No! Shiro!” He screamed but the crowds roars were deafening. He couldn't handle it. He would be given a free pass to live while his best friend died for the brief entertainment of a psychopathic race. He could hear the electric sound of the monster's weapon intensify, and tried to stand. He needed to intervene, stop the fight. He stumbled forward on an ineffective leg and grabbed the arm of a robotic guard.

“You have to stop the fight” he gasped between sobs. When had he started crying? “Please, I was supposed to fight first, let him go!”

The guard looked at Matt briefly before raising the butt of its weapon and slamming it down on his face. All he saw next was black.

———

“This is becoming a habit of mine,” Matt thought to himself. “I should see if there’s like a frequent flyer rewards program for people that pass out here on good ol’ Galran Airlines.”

Matt forced himself to chuckle. He was _trying_ to ease the nerves with some humor, but it wasn’t working. He sighed before opening his eyes to figure out where he was waking up this time. He was strapped down again, but he wasn't in the room with the florescent lights. He was in a small room, large enough to hold about three of the metal inspection tables. By the way the table shook and his stomach occasionally dropped, he could tell they were traveling, likely on a much smaller spacecraft. The strap on his head was looser than before too, so he was able to turn his head slightly. To his left, a wall, to his right, another strapped down individual. The first thing he noticed about the sleeping form was the individual’s badly broken arm. He squinted to take in a muscular build and short dark hair. 

“Shiro!” He breathed a sigh of relief. Oh thank God. Shiro was alive and, excluding the arm, well. Matt relaxed back into table. They had both made it, and now they were both injured. “They must be transferring us to the work camp,” he thought, allowing himself to smile. From there, they’d find his father, and think of a way home. Everything was going to be okay.

A sound between a chuckle and a growl was heard behind his head and Matt jumped. He hadn't considered there being anyone else in the room.

“Are you pleased to see the Champion was successful, little one?” The gravely voice’s question filled the small room. 

“Champion?” Matt questioned the out-of-sight stranger, his voice hardly a whisper. His throat was raw from crying, and the task felt more akin to pushing shards of glass from his esophagus than speaking. The guard was referring to Shiro obviously, but the title seemed unusually significant.

“Yes, Champion. Your friend put on quite the show, defeating the undefeatable Myzax. He has proven himself a worthy asset to the Galran empire, and piqued Lord Zarkon’s interest in the resilience of your species. You are lucky, Earthling, you will be given a second chance to prove yourself as a gladiator.” The stranger chuckled again, “I look forward to seeing your style of fighting, small one.”

Matt blanched and then sputtered, “But we’re injured? Shouldn't we be sent to a work camp or something?”

”Emperor Zarkon has asked for you both specifically, you should feel honored. We are moving you from Commander Sendak’s ship to the arena on Emperor Zarkon’s. Do be as entertaining as your friend.” It laughed loudly this time, the sound resonating off the walls and shaking Matt’s table.

“I’ll do my best.” He choked out. Conceptually he knew this was bad news, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to feel the panic that so filled the past few days. Maybe his mind had normalized the torment, and maybe he was just tired. All he knew was that Shiro was okay, and they were both going to see another day together. He turned to look at his friend again and relaxed. He made an effort to enjoy this fleeting peace that was sure to be followed by a storm.  
———

“Where should we leave them, Haggar?” A guard questioned, and Haggar gestured. 

Upon arrival, the specimen were wheeled into her experimentation room. The larger one, the Champion, remained unconscious. Having proven his ability to fight despite his species' clear disadvantage in terms of size and strength, Lord Zarkon requested he be given the experimental technology and tested again. Defeating Myzax with no substantial injury was certainly interesting, but Haggar could not understand Emperor Zarkon’s desire to keep the injured smaller specimen as well.

She looked to the small boy, measuring no larger than 150 kent, and watched as it pathetically strained against the restraints to look at her. The creature was not only more frail than its counter part, but it was far weaker than most Galran toddlers as well. He also showed no inclination towards combat. And, were that not enough, its optic structures were in complete disrepair.

The doors to room slid open, revealing Emperor Zarkon.

“Haggar,” His voice demanded attention even as he spoke lowly,“State your intentions.”

“Yes, my Lord. The Champion’s arm is injured, I am planning to remove it and replace it with the experimental arm I have been working on, as you requested. This may be considered an extravagant advancement for a single win, but as ‘the Champion’ it seems likely he’ll able to provide adequate feedback.”

“Do as you please.” Zarkon dismissively spoke to Haggar as he walked over to the smaller specimen. It withered under his gaze. As the color drained from its face, the Emperor smiled. “And, what of this one?”

“For the small one, he is untested. I do not wish to apply an enhancement if we will not receive sufficient data from its use. For now, I will improve it’s failing sight so it may prove itself in the arena, a simple enhancement. Though, I respectfully question your interest in this diminutive being.”

“As do I.” Zarkon chuckled as Matt flinched. “You may begin Haggar, Vreppit Sa.”

“Vreppit sa”

Haggar turned back to the small boy as Zarkon exited the room. Wasting no time, she used her quintessence to make him remain still as she quickly replaced his malfunctioning oculi with an advanced, artificial par. The procedure was short, she didn’t bother blocking his pain receptors, and spent only several ticks wrapping his head in a bandage before sending him to the healing pods. Zarkon would be getting his wish, the small boy should be able to fight shortly. She turned her attention back to Champion. Now she could focus on the specimen that _truly_ interested her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm most excited for chapter three. It's a bit longer than the last two so it might not be done by tomorrow, but it's Matt's first fight and I am hyped about it!
> 
> Thank you for the words of encouragement so far, I'm stoked!! 
> 
> Also, I want to thank the Beta Reader "Sunny Lighter" from FF.net one more time for the help!
> 
> I hope you all like it :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt wakes up in a healing pod with new eyes and a million questions. All too soon, though, he is taken to the arena. Facing off against a monster, there's no one there to save him this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've ever wondered why the entire universe speaks English, here's your chance to know!

Matt stumbled as he stepped out of the healing pod. He was groggy, he was sore, and the room was way too bright for his liking. He absent-mindedly pushed up a pair of glasses that no longer rested on his nose before realizing what he did. Signing comically loud, he looked at his hand angrily, and HOLY SHIT HIS HAND!? 

Matt had been so preoccupied with the lights, hadn’t yet realized just how _well_ his new eyes could see. No, this _transcended_ seeing, if what he was doing before could even be _considered_ that.

It was as if he was looking through a microscope. Every fingerprint, every crease, even the minute changes in hue that lay beneath the surface of his skin were crystal clear! 

A guard tugged Matt from the fluorescent room and he walked on lead feet, soaking in the ship with new eyes. No longer did the hallways look oppressively plum in color, instead the vaulted ceilings were basked in royal purple. The lights imbedded in the walls illuminated the intricate details carved in the metalwork, an ethereal patchwork of swirls and lines that were invisible to Matt before. He couldn't help but reach out and drag his hand along the walls, tangibly verifying what he was seeing was real.

A sliding door ahead ascended at their approach, and the two made their way through a portion of the ship that looked more like Matt remembered. Inattentive hands left these walls bare, and the failing light fixtures cast long shadows.

Matt was stopped when they reached a relatively large cell. The only thing separating him from a group of other prisoners was a shimmering particle barrier. As the guard typed in a code, Matt turned his eyes on the tech and inspected it. He found himself able to _see_ the electricity, _see_ the inner workings. He ran his digits along the barrier and watched in awe as the purple current danced and buzzed around his fingertips.

“Holy mother of pearl,” he whispered to himself before being shoved into the cell with about ten other creatures roughly his size or smaller. Within seconds he was able to take in their forms to the minute detail, and Matt couldn’t help but forget his situation as he marveled at the new technology at home in his face. He was _fascinated._

He tapped the metal orbs immediately wondered what they looked like. They weren’t made for him specifically, “Haggar” had gone to work quickly, so they were likely Galran. What can Galran eyes do? Were these eyes limited to Galran possibilities, or did they exceed them? He felt questions bubbling up, the excitement of scientific inquiry an unstoppable force.

He needed answers.

Matt looked at the group sharing the cell with him.

“What do my eyes look like?” He questioned the group abruptly. They all seemed taken back by the way he was smiling and the enthusiasm that shone on his face.

When he was greeted with silence he continued, “Are they yellow? Brown? Ooh, silver?”

A humanoid alien a couple of inches taller than Matt stood. He was covered in alabaster skin that seemed the same texture of a reptile, with four green, slated eyes. The back of his body had large plated scales Matt thought looked similar to those of a Pangolin, only they were a pale, leafy-green. The creature spoke tentatively, his voice tinged with pity, “Your eyes are yellow, brother. They look Galran.”

Matt couldn’t fathom where the pity was coming from because holy hell this was amazing! Not only could he see, he was being given insight into technology far more advanced than that of Earth! He started bouncing. “And what can a Galran eye _do,_ exactly?”

The pale creature turned to the others sharing the cell, and shrugged. “They can see well, night and day?”

“No way! Night vision?! Liiit!” Matt's arms pumped in the air and he made his way to the wall, sitting down he focused on the tech. These were supposed to be advanced eyes, maybe they could shoot lasers or something. He focused hard at the ceiling, willing flaming beams to shoot from his eyes and ignoring as the group continued to stare. 

Maybe it didn't have lasers.

Sighing, he leaned his head back against the wall. If this was a “simple enhancement,” he wondered what they would be giving Shiro? _He’d_ probably have lasers. Matt snorted, Shiro would absolutely love a laser arm. 

Back at the Garrison, they once had an entire discussion about the possibility of Matt building an Iron Man suit for Shiro, complete with laser shooters and possibly flight. After some serious planning, the two realized they had about enough cash for laser pointers. Matt went out and got them both a few of those small laser pointer rings you get in the gum ball machines at the mall, and for weeks the two made it their mission to shine it in each other’s eyes as much as possible. 

The Iron Man suit had been an ongoing joke for some time, but here they were, very close to their plan coming true. Matt laughed again. He was really looking forward to talking to Shiro again, and wondered when they’d bring him in. He wanted to know what happened in the arena, and how Shiro won. Maybe he could ask those in the cell with him?

“Wait a minute,” Matt sat up abruptly, “How do you all speak English?”

The aliens in the cell once again looked at each other confused. 

“We don’t. We speak Galran?” The white and green alien answered for the group once more.

“When Emperor Zarkon began his conquest 10,000 years ago, the Galran language was required to be taught on each planet he took. Soon it became easier for everyone to learn it for commerce purposes.” Another cut in.

“Hmm.” The gears in Matt’s mind were reeling. The earliest signs of the English language were absolutely less than 10,000 years ago. This is possibly evidence of early alien contact! Hypothetically, if ANY aliens, not even only Galra, visited Earth and interacted with the people there, they would have probably spoken and taught the humans Galran/English. His whole country may be speaking an alien language without any knowledge of that fact! Katie would shit herself if he told her, she was _obsessed_ with Ancient Aliens.

His mind started to wander back to the arena, but he pushed the thoughts away with a shake of his head. He forced himself to think to think happy thoughts instead: Home, the Garrison garlic bread, his parents. 

He sighed, this wasn't making him feel better. He wondered if his family heard about their disappearance yet. What would they tell even tell them? They wouldn't be anticipating aliens, what explanation could they give? His stomach turned. They’d probably never get to know what really happened. They were going to be heart broken.

He was still lost in thought when the particle barrier to the cell fell.

“Up.” The robotic guard insisted. A few around him shuffled, but no one moved. “Get up!”

It aimed its gun at a blue, slug-like prisoner. The alien stood with a look of pure horror and slunk to the front of the cell. The gun was next pointed at Matt who followed suit. It continued like that until the entire cell was lined up and marched down the hall. 

Matt turned, behind him was the green scaled prisoner he’d spoken to before.

“Hey, where are they taking us?” he whispered, not really sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“The Arena.” The white figure didn't look at Matt. He was expressionless and focused. Matt froze at this, halting the line behind him.

“What? I just got here? I-We can't fight yet!” Matt got the look of pity again before a guard roughly shoved him forward. He marched on. Ahead of him the blue slug shook, and Matt began to sweat. He wasn’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t even gotten to see Shiro! He’d wasted time thinking of home and _English_ when he should have been planning how he could possible survive against a Gladiator like Myzax. 

He was going to die.

They entered the arena, and were greeted by a thunderous applause. Matt looked around and felt the panic settle in his stomach like hot lead. This arena was even bigger than the last, the crowd was rowdier too. They threw things at the prisoners. An empty cup hit him in the head as he tried to focus, tried to stop his heart from coming out of his throat. In front of him another barrier separated the line of prisoners from the creature that would decide their fate. 

The gladiator in the arena was, in one word, _terrifying._

Standing at about 7 feet tall compared to Matt’s measly 5’4”, it had black, leathery skin that sagged like a hairless cat’s. Its body was just a large, ovular shape with two powerful back legs and two smaller front ones, like a grotesque frog. On either side of its body, there was a huge, pointed ear that twitched and turned in response to the crowd. 

However, the most horrifying part of the beast was its face. The creature had no eyes. Instead, it had two empty holes where eyes should have been, and an enormous, gaping mouth that stretched from one ear to the other. Row upon row of thin, razor-sharp teeth were revealed as the creature panted heavily, lips pulled back. A thick, throbbing purple tongue hung to the floor, leaving a pool of saliva in its wake. It wetly licked its lips, spittle flying everywhere, and Matt felt bile rising in his throat. This _thing_ was an abomination. 

Matt watched as the barrier fell and the small, blue slug-man was pushed forward and handed a simple sword and wrist cuff that created a particle shield. That was all they’d be given when facing this behemoth? His mouth went dry and his mind blanked.

Matt smacked his cheeks, and took some counted breaths. 

“Focus” he chastised himself. He would soon be facing off against the thing before him, and he needed to think of something, get a plan in place. He thought of his friend, ever calm, ever confident; and tried to emulate him. Squaring his shoulders, and staring ahead as he told himself he could do it. No, he _would_ do it. It was that or die, and he was feeling particularly death averse today. 

“Patience yields focus,” he reminded himself. He’d heard Shiro say it before, but Matt usually ignored it. He was always one to act impulsively. Today, though, he quieted his mind and did his best to focus. He could find a way to win. 

“Think smarter not harder Matthew,” that one was an echo of his dad and he turned his attention to the ring, hands shaking.

“Stop being such a wet noodle, you whiney baby” and there was Katie’s usual advice, spurring him on. He watched as the blue prisoner slid into the arena. The arena was a flat, circular platform with several protruding cubes a person could hide behind. As the tinted barrier began to rise from the ground, the blue man started frantically yelling. He turned to pound on the barrier slowly rising around him and the beast, and the audience roared with laughter and jeers. Matt felt sick. When the barrier finally reached the top, a buzzer sounded, signifying the beginning of the fight.

Matt forced himself to try and dissect the fight despite how numb his hands felt and how hard it was getting to breath. He was looking for details, anything at all that might be significant. He watched as the blue alien stumbled forward and aimlessly walked, hands outstretched before him as if he were blind. The alien’s panic set in quickly and he began wildly waving his sword in front of him. The black beast tilted its head sideways. It’s ears twitched. 

It was listening.

A second passed. The monster turned to face the frantic blue slug, opened its gaping mouth, and charged at him. Matt flinched and turned away as the two collided, not wanting to see the fate of the prisoner he was just with. 

That wasn’t a fight. This was a slaughter.

A buzzer signified the end of the fight, and Matt looked back into the ring. The monstrosity was back in its starting spot, the only sign the blue slug had even been in the arena was a stain on the floor. Matt couldn’t help but wonder if that would be his legacy as well. “GAH!” He shook his head and slapped his cheeks again, he didn't have time for this!

He was roughly pushed forward. A guard slipped the particle shield onto his wrist and the sword into his hand. Matt’s blood was thundering in his ears, largely blocking out the noise of the crowd, and he was trembling. Despite this, his mind remained clear. Adrenaline telling him this was life or death, he was focused.

As he stepped onto his starting mark, the arena’s barrier began to rise at what felt like a creeping pace, grinding on Matt’s anxiety. As it got higher, he took note of the way the barrier seemed to block the outside light from getting in. He thought back to the way the blue slug stumbled aimlessly, and speculated the field would be either getting pretty dark or pitch black. He shivered. He had no evidence that his eyes really had night vision. If they didn’t, he would be a sitting duck for the black monster licking its lips in anticipation.

“You're gunna do great Matt, wooo.” He weakly tried to assure himself.

He perched on the balls of his feet and bounced from foot to foot, feeling the weight of the sword in his hand. He took another measured breath. Matt had never been much into athletics, but he did have an understanding of the athletic forms and how to conceptually be successful. He could do this!

The field got darker as the barrier listlessly drew towards the top, and the sounds of the crowd seemed to get further and further away with each passing moment. He knew the thing before him relied on its hearing, but would Zarkon really stack the odds so far in favor of the monster? Matt’s skin started crawling as the sounds of the crowd got lower and the ragged breathing of the gladiator became audible.

They were absolutely cutting out the sound.

The barrier shut at the top, and Matt was plunged into darkness. His heart stopped in his chest as all the bravery he felt immediately drained away. He was blind. He couldn’t see, and _he was going to die._ An eternity of a second later, and Matt heard a small click in his eyes as they switched to night vision. He sighed in relief as he realized he could see everything, though it was all a dark shade of purple. The beast itself still blended in, largely due to its black color, but Matt could see its shape and that would be enough to avoid it. 

Just as quickly as he was relieved, the buzzer sounded and the fight began. 

Matt remained silent. If he makes no noise, the thing shouldn't be able to find him, and he should be able to just wait until it gets close enough to strike some non-vital point. The creature shook its body like a dog and closed its mouth, halting the rough breathing. A moment later, a low, chilling tone came from the holes in the creature’s head. It’s ears twitched in response, and Matt remained silent, trying to decipher what it was doing. The eerie timbre filled the space, setting Matt on edge.

Without notice, the monster turned its entire body to Matt and charged.

“Shit, shit, shit, SHIT, SHIT!!” Matt was shrieking, abandoning all notions of a plan as he scrambled to avoid the thing barreling towards him. He bolted to the left and the thing followed. He dropped the sword which was entirely too bulky to run with, and sprinted sporadically trying to lose the monster on his heel. 

Matt didn’t dare peak over his shoulder as he ran. He didn't need to see it, he could hear it.

I didn’t make sense. He was silent! How did it find him? And, how was it following him? There was no way it could hear his tiny footfalls over its own thunderous pounding steps. Matt racked his brain to think of a solution while running for his life. The low tone created a soundtrack for the fight. 

The tone…

The tone! The thing uses echolocation! Matt felt like an idiot with that revelation, and he would have been mad at himself if he wasn't currently sprinting from the bloodthirsty monster. H wasn't built for athletics, and he couldn't keep up. With each turn the thing got a little closer to its prize. 

In a mad attempt to shake it, Matt ran directly towards the barrier and took a wide dive to the left a second before hitting the wall. The creature, having too much momentum, slammed into the barrier. Matt paid no attention to rough cuts on his arms and legs beading with blood. In fact, he didn’t rest for a moment, running behind one of the large blocks in the arena and pressing his back against it. He struggled to silently catch his ragged breaths and ease the pain in his sides.

The creature stood and went back to the middle of the arena. The tone was ominous, seeping into Matt’s thoughts as he tried to focus. The black beast began stalking through the arena looking for its prey. The nightmarish sound of its ragged breathing returned, and each footfall was closer than Matt was comfortable with. He made a conscious effort to stay on the opposite side of the block. 

“What the heck can I do?!” 

He would swear the thing could hear his heart pounding with how loud the sound was. It racked his body with each thump, and got stronger each step the looming beast took. 

He mentally chastised himself, “Ok relax, how does one combat echolocation?” He paused to think about bats. “Noise pollution.”

He gasped and pressed against the block as the beast drew closer. “Okay” he thought,“I just need to make a lot of noise?” 

No, that would just let it know where he was hiding. He roughly ran his hands through his hair. He needed to make the barrier fall. No, he _needed_ to know how to _fight._ He looked around frantically, desperately searching for a savior, for something to help. 

His eyes stopped on his wrist. More specifically, they stopped on the arm cuff producing the particle barrier. He clicked open the paneling on the side and was struck with inspiration as he looked at the wiring within. Matt smiled. He sucked at fighting and running, this, however, was his specialty. 

He began moving the hardware around with shaky fingers. He knew he was making small noises, and he knew it would draw the beast’s attention, but this was his only chance. Devices like this which convert power contain coils that use electromagnetism to convert one power source to another. Both components, the power source and the converted energy, create varying magnetic fields, and if one can create a large enough disparity in the frequency, the components can start to physically vibrate. These vibrations create a very high frequency noise that Matt thought could mess with the monster’s echolocation.

Before he could produce the sound he was looking for, the beast heard his tinkering. It turned the corner where Matt was standing and lunged at him. 

Matt shrieked as he fell backwards, narrowly escaping the ragged tongue’s reach. He rolled to the side as it pounced, and scrambled to his feet. Before he was ready, he was running again with the thundering feet steps away. He slipped the cuff off and drew it to his face so he could make changes while he ran. It was getting closer with each moment, and he wasn't going to finish in time. 

“Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit,” Matt was screaming as he barreled forward. He could feel hot breath on his neck, occasionally getting hit with spit as the thing got closer. He ran towards the barrier again, hoping the trick he’d used once would work twice. Diving to the right at the last minute, the thing proved it wasn't very smart. It slammed into the wall and Matt ran as far from it as he could, all the while moving around the mechanics of his wrist cuff. The thing got up and turned to face him. It shook before using its powerful legs to push off the ground and rush the small boy one last time. Matt’s heart was pounding in his head, making his vision shake. He was almost done. He held his breath as he connected the last wire and threw the bracelet in front of him, diving to the side and using his arms to cover his head for when it didn't work.

He exhaled. The thundering footsteps stopped and the only sounds were the monster’s breathing and the low tone mixed with a high pitch squealing coming from Matt’s cuff. It worked? 

It _worked!_

The monster’s ears twitched. It cocked its head from one side to the other, and Matt almost started dancing. He was right. He wasn’t dead! He caught his breath for a moment as he watched the thing blindly search for him. Its mouth closed and the heavy breathing stopped. Matt thought it might be listening harder, and didn't want to push his luck. Still running on adrenaline, he quickly scanned the arena and spotted the sword he discarded early on. He ran to grab it. 

He returned to the beast which was languidly searching for him. Matt stood behind the now blind creature. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and plunged the sword into the flesh right above its back legs where he assumed a spinal-cord lay hidden. Matt found himself numbly surprised at how easily the weapon slid into the monster. Hot, thick liquid poured down the blade and covered the front of his body. The buzzer sounded, and suddenly his ears were filled with the screaming crowd as the barrier fell. Matt stumbled back, finally able to take in the scene before him, the black blood covering his body and hands. 

He promptly turned and emptied his stomach on the floor beside him. 

“Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!” The crowd chanted for him to show the paralyzed being no mercy, and Matt thought he’d be sick again.

The adrenaline was quickly wearing off as Matt looked at the form before him. The horrible creature lay twitching at his feet, and he looked away. 

He’d won, but what had it cost him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Matt going to do?! How will he handle the blood on his hands? Will he go crazy like Lady MacBeth, feel awful, or revel in the power it gives him?! Tune in next chapter. lol
> 
> Also, I don't science at all. If you science and this is inaccurate, I blame google. 
> 
> I will probably update in a week!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!! I know I enjoyed writing it! Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having left his first gladiator fight, Matt has to come to terms with what he's done and find his role in the little cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not a lot of action in this chapter, it's more just setting stuff up for the future story line. Sorry my duuddess.

Matt’s mind was cloudy as he stumbled out of the arena and was led back to his cell with the rest of the prisoners. Apparently, when someone won, the battle was over for the entire group. Once inside, the events of the day rammed into him all at once, and he practically collapsed, leaning against the walls for support. He felt physically and mentally drained.

“It was going to _kill_ you, Matt. You had to do it.” He was whispering to himself and really willing that nagging feeling of dread to go away. 

The guards didn’t give him anything to clean himself with, and the smell of the drying blood was sticking to the inside of his nose, making him nauseous again. God, why was he trembling so much? He laid his face against the cool metal floor, and did a poor rendition of child’s pose. “Shit.” 

Matt caught himself wondering if this was how Shiro felt having beaten Myzax. He wondered if Shiro killed him. He shivered.

Matt didn't know how long he sat like that in the silence, but he was shaken from his thoughts with a tap on the shoulder. Peaking upwards, he saw the white and green alien from before holding out a towel caked in filth. Matt couldn’t care less. He quickly wiped what he could off his body and arms, happy for what little relief it brought, and handed the towel back with a terse “thanks.” He was placing his face back on the ground again when the alien tentatively spoke.

“Are all Earthlings warriors like you and Champion?”

Matt couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that spilt from his mouth. This guy was joking, right?

“I am possibly the furthest thing from a warrior,” he mumbled into his knees, too embarrassed to look at the guy, “I was lucky. In fact, on Earth I am _the_ weakest person I know. And that’s really saying something because I have a sister in Middle School.” 

“Well, the weakest among your kind may quickly become the strongest among us. I’ve never seen someone leave their first fight so unharmed.” 

Matt paused. He peaked at the guy again, and noticed something he couldn't quite place. Pity again? Kindness? Those both weren’t right, not really. But it absolutely couldn’t be what he thought it was. 

Admiration? 

Matt ford himself to look at the rest of the room. Their gazes were so earnest and… a little hopeful as they huddled together silently against the walls. They were just as afraid as he was, and, for some bizarre reason, they were looking to him. 

Boy, did they have it wrong. He chuckled again, maybe a little hysterically. He didn’t deserve those looks. He pressed his palms to his eyes and dragged his hands down his face. Dang it.

These people clearly needed someone to lift their spirits a little, and, you know what, he could do that. Logically, it could be done. He could turn off the bad thoughts. He mentally hummed that song from Book of Mormon as he took all those negative feelings and shoved ‘um in a little bottle. Took that bottle and sent it to sea. Gone for good,“sayonara dread, I never knew ya.”

He chuckled. Ok, he was used to dealing with strife through jokes and confidence, this issue was just a bit more of a hurdle. No problemo. He wasn’t strong, he wasn’t charismatic, but he could pretend for them. Matt slipped the usual mask on and smiled. Slowly, experimentally, he began.

“No way man, I bet you're stronger. You could totally beat me in an arm wrestle.”

“Arm wrestle?” The white alien questioned.

“What? Do you guys not have arm wrestles?” He had the rooms full attention now. They all shook their heads no. 

Matt let out a low whistle. “Oh, well let. Me. Tell. You. On Earth, arm wrestling is a way for warriors to compete and prove that they’re the strongest amongst their brethren. The stakes are very high, and many avoid the arm wrestle for fear of losing.”

“What are the stakes?” A black alien that looked a bit like a Sasquatch questioned Matt with eyes like saucers. 

“Bragging rights.” He nodded solemnly.

There was a wave of knowing “oohs” throughout the room and then a beat of silence before another creature asked “what are those?” This got enthusiastic nods from everyone in the room.

Matt chuckled at their reaction, he was surprisingly getting into this. He drew his shoulders back and smiled a little brighter. This is fine.

“Oh y’no, whenever the winner wants they can say,’remember that one time I beat you in an arm wrestle,’ and everyone is reminded that they are truly the strongest! It’s a huge pride thing. People remember it for years. Champion even has a plaque on his wall, ‘Grand Poobah of the Arm Wrestle!’ He shines it every day.”

There was a wave of whispers, and Matt had a brilliant idea. They needed a distraction, and by golly he’d give them one.

“Let’s have an arm wrestling tournament!” He declared, clambering to his feet. He pointed to the white and green alien who’d spoken with him the most, “You! What’s your name?”

“Uh, Em’Rin” The look he gave Matt made it seem like he had threatened the guy’s life not asked for his name, and Matt chuckled again.

“Relax dude, like I said, you’re probably going to beat me.” Matt gestured for Em’Rin to lay with his belly on the floor, and then followed suit. He described the process of an arm wrestling tournament to the entire room in excruciating detail, rambling here and there and gesturing haphazardly as he did. They all leaned in excitedly to watch, soaking in every word. 

“Okay man, at the count of three, go! One, Two, Three!”

Much to everyone’s surprise, minus Matt’s, his hand struck the metal floor within seconds. At that point he stood to mediate and keep the game rolling. 

“Okay, YOU!” He finger gunned at a navy blue guy with four arms, “What’s your name?”

“Achyef.”

“Gesundheit! It’s your turn, come on down!”

And so the little game continued like that for hours. They’d get through a few rounds, and then some would demand rematches. Side tournaments sprouted up among the losers as time went on, and Matt took in the revelry with excitement, finding himself almost able to forget everything.

Forget what he’d done, forget that it had been a full day and Shiro hadn't come back yet. 

Almost.

Eventually, there was a clear winner, a waif of alien, Marjie, that stood about two feet tall. Her skin was bright pink with long ears that laid flat against her head like hair. She was practically beaming as she smashed the hand of the black Sasquatch, the _largest_ figure in the room, to the floor, and received a surprised applause.

“How the _heck_ did you _do_ that?!” Matt was squealing as the little pink alien obnoxiously pumped her arms in the air and paraded around the room, occasionally flexing her tiny arms.

She smiled back at him and stopped her demonstration of strength. 

“People from my planet can drain other’s energy the longer we touch them. The Cloaked One made this ability much stronger for me. That’s my advancement.” She looked so dang smug as she went back to flexing.

“She’s cheating!! Revoke her ‘bragging rights’ Earthling!” Some sore loser along the walls bellowed and got a round of vigorous support from a few others. 

Matt was genuinely laughing now as he watched the room fall into a _heated_ debate about whether or not non-human strengths should be considered cheating since the tournament was “for only Earthlings and they do not have such abilities!” Marjie was gleefully spurring them on. She kept up her show of strength, and whenever some common ground was found, she’d cut in with a “remember that time I beat you all in an arm wrestle,” leaving Team No-Abilities fuming and Team Abilities groaning loudly.

 

Matt eventually had to step in and officially declare Marjie the winner, raising her tiny fist in the air like a wrestling champion.

As everyone got tired, the conversations died down and people curled up against the walls to sleep. Matt plopped down, exhausted. He’d been up for what felt like a serious all nighter, and in that time he literally fought a monster. He sighed as the exhaustion overtook him. Even so, he was glad they’d had this night. 

He thought back to the earlier silence in the cell and watched as Marjie curled up on the Sasquatch’s stomach to sleep. All around the room, the prisoners were closer than before. He did it.

Em’Rin came and joined Matt, a smile gracing his lips.

“Thank you, brother. We needed that.”

“Me too, dude.” Matt smiled back, “Me too.”

———

Matt was probably dreaming. That night, he’d woken in a field of purple flowers that seemed all too comfortable to be real. Honestly, he couldn't really remember where he was before the flowers, so maybe it was real. He couldn’t really remember anything. He smiled to himself numbly, his mind felt sluggish but he felt _good._

It was night, that much was clear, and he was making his way through some knee high plants of unknown origin. Ahead of him, through a smattering of bushes, he could see lights. 

He made his way to the edge of the bushes and peered through.

There were hundreds of small, horned aliens in another field of purple flowers, only this one was dying. The aliens were desperately searched through the flowers and occasionally eating from their buds. They were all weak, wore rags, and were severely malnourished.

Matt attempted to break through the line of bushes only to find he couldn’t move. He opened his mouth to call out, but a deafening silence filled the air.

Soon, he watched as a ship landed. It carried big, purple-furred soldiers with food rations and supplies. Abruptly the scene before him sped up, showing the night turn to day, the horned beings feast on their newfound supplies, finding deep joy in the manual labor they did to earn their keep. At night, they celebrated to the name of Zarkon, the man who gave them life and purpose, and everyone was better off. The purple flowers flourished once again.

Matt had heard that name before, Zarkon, but it was fuzzy. He tried to focus, but even that was becoming difficult. All he could think of now was how happy he was for these people. Zarkon had saved them.

“Emperor Zarkon is great isn't he?”

A startled Matt abruptly turned to the voice behind him. Standing before him was… himself? Well, as himself as the guy could be without being himself. The stranger was lanky, his shaggy hair stuck out messily in different places, and he wore a goofy grin. The only thing of note was his glowing yellow eyes. Matt idly thought about his brown eyes. He did have brown eyes right? He smiled at the yellow eyed Matt. “Who is Emperor Zarkon?”

The yellow Matt grinned back, opening his arms wide as he spoke. “Why, he’s your Emperor Matt! Don't you remember? Did you see the great thing he did for those people?”

“Yes. It _was_ great!” Matt found himself smiling back, he felt so happy. “Does he always do such great things?”

“Oh yes, he is the savior of the universe. You should feel proud to serve him.” The yellow Matt walked closer to him, yellow eyes gleamed as he reached out a hand. “Do you promise to serve him, Matt? So he can keep doing great things?”

“Absolutely!” He reached out his hand, and shook the other’s. Matt felt his entire body become flush with pride. Lord Zarkon was an amazing man, he knew this intuitively. He would do anything Emperor Zarkon asked.

The yellow eyes grinned again. “Good, small one.”

Suddenly Matt felt sleepy. His vision blurred and he laid on the floor to rest for just a moment…

 

Matt was probably dreaming. That night, he’d woken in a forest of red trees that seemed all too beautiful to be real. Honestly, he couldn't really remember where he was before the forest, so maybe it was real. He smiled. He felt good. 

It was morning, and he was touching the bark of the trees as he made his way through the forest. Ahead of him, through a group of low hanging vines, he could hear the sounds of a raging battle. 

He made his way to the edge of the vines and peered through.

There were hundreds of large, lithe creatures. Some had yellow bodies, others brown. They were fighting bitterly, the yellow versus the brown, and killing everyone and everything in their path. Around them, the beautiful forest burned to black ash. He knew what this was. 

War. 

Matt attempted to break through the vines only to find he couldn’t move. He opened his mouth to call out, but was met with silence.

Soon, a purple ship landed. It carried big, purple-furred soldiers. Abruptly the scene before him sped up. The purple soldiers stopped the fighting and took a few of the more violent aliens back on the ship to release their aggression in the arena. Both those taken and those left behind happily worked for Zarkon, knowing that it was his soldiers who had saved their lives from the war. The red forest flourished once again.

“Emperor Zarkon is great isn't he?”

Matt abruptly turned to the voice behind him, startled. He was hit with serious déjà vu as he stared at himself.

“He is the single greatest savior of the universe. You’ll dedicate your life to him, right Matt?” Yellow eyes peered at him thoughtfully. 

“Absolutely” he was overwhelmed with a feeling of joy and tiredness, he laid on the floor to rest for a moment, his vision blurring.

The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was a widening cheshire grin. “Good, Earthling.”

 

Matt’s dreams continued like that throughout the night, a cyclical pattern berating Matt with images of Zarkon’s strengths and good will. Each dream sequence ended with Matt being assured by a distinctly yellow eyed Matt that Zarkon was a great guy.

By the time he _really_ woke up. He felt disgusted with himself. Was this a product of his own mind or a side effect of his new eyes? He couldn’t decide which would be worse. 

He stretched his sore body and looked around. The cell had received rations while he slept, and everyone was devouring their respective packs. Except Em’Rin, the white and green alien from before. He wasn't in the cell.

“Hey guys, where’s Rin?” Matt asked the group.

The room went silent, and they shared a look. The Sasquatch, who Matt quickly learned was a big ol' teddy bear, was the first to speak. “He’s in the arena.”

Matt blanched. “What? We just fought yesterday! Is this like an everyday thing?!”

Another along the wall spoke, “No, those with enhancements fight during our breaks as well.” It shivered, and Matt followed suit. 

Would his new eyes count as an enhancement? He didn't think he was ready to fight again, not so soon. Not with the images of yesterday’s fight still tattooed on his eyelids.

The group continued to explain the general goings on of the ship. They received rations each morning. Every fifth Galran “quintant,” which was like a day, was a group fight. If you won enough,“the cloaked one,” who Matt assumed was Haggar, would reward you with an enhancement, and you had the honor of extra fights. 

With this knowledge, he thought about Em’Rin and Shiro, both with enhancements, and really hoped they would be okay. 

 

———

 

When Em’Rin eventually returned to the cell a couple of hours later, it was immediately clear to everyone that something had gone wrong. He didn't move, didn't speak, instead he opted to stare through the stains on his hands. He must’ve been forced to kill today. The others in the room had talked to Matt earlier about how Em’Rin’s planet didn't believe in violence. It was a mortal sin, and so he always tried not to hurt his opponents. His body produced different toxins from ones that caused sleep to ones that caused death, and he always used sleep first. However, there were times where that wasn't enough.

Matt could visibly see the guy’s mental struggle written on his face, but he had no idea what to do. The confident persona he put on the day before was good for a laugh, but he’d never had to comfort someone like this.

Everyone else seemed just as lost, and, frankly, they weren't that close to begin with.

Matt watched as Marjie, who was sitting on the Sasquatch’s shoulders, whispered something in his ear. The furry alien nodded and walked over to Em’Rin, wringing his hands as he did.

He was taller and wider than Rin, so when he gave the pale alien an enormous hug, Rin was absolutely enveloped. Matt saw his body relax, and got himself up to join the hug. Soon, the entire room was surrounding Em’Rin, whispering words of encouragement. 

The tensions slowly melted from the room. He wasn’t okay. None of them _really_ were. But that was okay, they didn’t have to be.

That night, their conversation was less joking, and more reminiscing from home. Matt talked about his parents and Katie, and the other prisoners loved hearing about how the vicious Champion they’d heard about acted like a big ol’ boy scout back on Earth. The Sasquatch, who was named Qurq, told them about his family of 17. Marj talked in-depth about how beautiful her planet was, and it went on like that, with everyone sharing, until they all fell asleep in a huddle on the floor.

They weren’t alone in this hell, and that was possibly the most reassuring thing Matt could imagine. He drifted off to sleep against the cold floor thinking about his dad and Shiro. He hoped they too were finding solace in those around them, a little slice of peace in this endless expanse of space. He smiled to himself. Of course they were. If _he_ could do it, he was _positive_ they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of trouble writing this one, and I still am not too fond of it. The more I read it the the more I liked it less though, so I just had to publish it. lol sorry! 
> 
> Also, I'm thinking updates all be on a weekly basis for the most part, with maybe some earlier releases if inspiration strikes. Haha 
> 
> As always, thanks so much! And, I hope you all have a good memorial day tomorrow!! (if you celebrate it)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time moves forward, things change, and Matt gets an enhancement like Shiro's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gunna put a bit in the beginning about Katie and Colleen Holt just to show like timeline-wise where everything was, but it didn't add to the story so I took it out. I published it separately cuz throwing it away seemed wasteful lol so if anyone _wanted_ to read it they totally can.

As the weeks passed, Matt’s weird dreams remained persistent, visiting him each night with tidings of good Zarkon and a yellow eyed grin. He ignored them, each morning groggily filing them deep in some memory bank he’d never revisit.

He also gave up hoping for Shiro to be brought in, he wasn’t naive. Shiro was probably in a different cell, and Matt was just going to have to deal with hearing about his success in passing and praying he continued to survive.

Not that that made him miss the older boy any less.

While these things remained constant, the little cell underwent some massive reconstruction. At first, there were only about seven members in the cell that were constant, with new aliens coming and, unfortunately going, frequently. There was Em’rin, Marjie, Sasquatch, a braggart with four arms, Matt, and two others. 

Matt had taken to giving everyone nicknames, a concept that the aliens generally didn't understand. Some were simple, like Em’rin was Rin, but others left their owners bamboozled, much to Matt’s enjoyment. Matt had taken to calling Qurq, the Sasquatch, “Sassy” with no explanation, leaving the soft spoken guy flustered. The four armed braggart became “Smitty Werbenjagermanjensen,” Smitty for short, because “he was number one.” And so on.

Each new recruit was given an interesting title, and, while they pretended to hate them, Matt could tell they reveled in the familiarity by the smiles that played on their lips. They weren’t just prisoners anymore, each of them was an individual with a name and a story. 

And, eventually, the boy with quizzical eyes and a penchant for planning became someone useful. 

But holy hell it wasn’t easy. 

Matt knew he relied too much on people back home, he always had. But after the first day in the cell the other prisoners expected him to be the persona he portrayed. They expected him to be brave and charismatic. Funny. Strong.

And so, Matt wore the facade until it became a second skin. He was an illusionist, an actor. As the weakling that fared well in the ring, he spent hours finding ways to give them hope, motivation, and organization.

He made plans, plans for escape, plans for a better life. At one point he had the idea of sending the most skilled fighters into the arena first for group fights, and the number of casualties plummeted. Their cell was thriving and metamorphosing, but so too was Matt. 

Over time, the charade became reality. The mask fell away, or rather melded with Matt, and he became that confident leader.

He _became_ strong.

He was no longer the pathetic little nerd, whining and useless as Shiro rescued him time and time again. He had reformed himself, he had been reformed, hardened like steel and entirely more useful because of it. 

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

Of course, he wasn't the only one. Marj became a permanent fixture on Sassy’s shoulder, the two getting along surprisingly well since their arm wrestle battle. They became a strong force of comfort and companionship to the other prisoners. Rin had a way of getting new people to feel at home, calling literally everyone and their mothers “brother.” Smitty, for all his pride, was a fantastic story teller who could enrapture audiences for hours with tales of his escapades. 

They were brought together because of a horrible set of circumstances, but in the short time they’d been together, they had started to normalize the process. They shared stories about their worlds and families, learned songs in native tongues, and Matt insisted they teach each other the swear words from their planets. (The cell had a laughable fondness for the word “shit” that Matt didn’t get).

Zarkon _was_ horrible, what they did _was_ awful, but, evidently, they were all alive and they had each other’s backs. 

“We could live like this,” Matt thought. It finally felt like the pieces were starting to fall into place. That was, of course, until everything fell apart.

 

— — —

 

Matt flew around a corner. The arena was a maze for this fight, and he’d spent a good amount of time memorizing each path and turn, committing to memory where the traps lay in wait. Behind him, he heard footfalls in rapid succession. The gladiator he faced today was like a centipede, all legs. Matt laughed as he turned another corner. His whole body, every inch of skin and bone, was alive with anticipation.The adrenaline made him aware of every heartbeat, every breath, and he couldn’t help but recognize how much _better_ at this he’d gotten.

His time in the arena had a pretty positive effect on his ability to breath and run at the same time. His lithe body sprinted and dodged the gladiators with ease. Matt was a well oiled machine. The endorphins overpowered any nerves he felt, and for this fight he was feeling pretty confident he would win.

Matt grinned before slowing down a bit, allowing the centipede to get directly behind him and tossing taunts over his shoulder. 

Leave it to Matt to only be able to think of yo mama jokes in the heat of the moment. Scientific yo momma jokes at that.

“Yo momma so fat when she turns around she gets equatorial bulge.” He was laughing again and the gladiator was speeding up in response, probably not getting the joke but still understanding it was a taunt.

Matt faced front again and smiled. Up ahead was what he was aiming for, a gaping chasm in the path he discovered earlier. He quickly dared a glance behind him to see the gladiator was completely consumed with watching Matt run. 

Perfect.

“Yo mama is so stupid, her exchange particle is…”

He picked up the pace slightly, and the gladiator followed suit. At the last minute, Matt leapt, flinging himself through the air towards the opposite side of the pit. 

The centipede had no warning, hot on Matt’s tail, and didn’t see the trap until it was too late. 

“A moron!”

It sank into the inky depths and released a low groan as it hit bottom.

The buzzer sounded and the maze disintegrated. 

“Yes!” Matt punched his arms in the air and turned to the others, all smiling back. He loved this moment, skin still tingling with adrenaline, crowd roaring, and no one was mortally wounded. He’d seen the healing pods often enough to know the centipede would be fine, everything was fine.

Matt made his way to exit the arena. He was abruptly stopped as two guards gripped his shoulders and slammed him to the ground, cutting his celebration short and making his stomach plummet.

“Hey, what the heck!?” Matt was struggling now, kicking against the metal floor and twisting in their grasps to escape. That bubbling fear he hadn’t felt in a while came creeping back, laced with anger, causing his heart to race and his breath to go shallow. “Let me go!”

He made one last attempt, putting his entire weight into getting off the floor, and was instead hit from behind with the familiar burst of blinding hot pain as the guards released a ripple of electricity through him. He lost all motor skills for a moment, stiff as a board, and then blacked out.

— — —

 

Matt awoke to blurry vision and garbled conversation. He blinked clarity into his eyes and pulled his brain back from the foggy depths. What’s going on?

“Whuum mai” He was talking. Well trying, “Whuugaaan!” There was a large plastic gag in his mouth holding it wide and blocking his speech. What the fuck is going on? Matt was panicking again, all at once and all consuming as if the feeling never left him. It overwhelmed him as he shook and writhed against oppressive binds, heart thundering in his ears. They were everywhere, the bonds. _Everywhere._ Every inch of him that could have been mobile was now strapped securely down, fingers included. It was to the point he couldn’t even twitch. Fidgets forbidden, his anxiety raged a roared, a once sleeping beast now awakened. He couldn't breath, and, since he couldn't thrash, he screamed.

Matt jolted as a course of electricity surged from the table beneath him. He screamed again. He’d never been so restricted, and every inch of his body responded by demanding to move. He needed out, he _needed out._

“LEE EEE AHH!!” He jolted with another shock and painful, dry sobs to ripped from his throat.  
What’s going on?!

“Small one,” Zarkon. That was Zarkon’s voice, he was sure. They were watching him in his pathetic struggle, letting him whimper and plead to no one. A dull anger arose, joining the fear etched on his face and making Zarkon chuckle.

“You entertain me.You’ve been very surprising and very… expressive.” Zarkon stepped closer and was now standing over Matt, regarding him with only a passing interest. “You’ve evolved rather quickly, and now come highly requested by the audience. However, I’m not yet satisfied.” 

The words themselves weren’t a threat, not explicitly, but they way Zarkon spoke had Matt breaking into a cold sweat. He was paralyzing.

“You will be awarded an enhancement, but you will _not_ continue to show weakness.” Matt’s chin was now in his grip,“Create a killer, Haggar. We have no need for compassion in the Galran empire. Do whatever you feel is necessary.” 

Zarkon spoke coldly, turned, and left the room. The last thing Matt saw before another current from the table left I'm unconscious was Haggar’s excited face hovering over his own.

— — —

Matt groaned as the healing pod slid open. He hurt. Every inch of his body throbbed with a dull ache and his head wasn’t faring much better. At least he was off of that God forsaken table. He stretched and enjoyed the popping in his joints. “Crepitus” he idly named the motion and pushed his joints further for that small relief. How long was he out?

The guards standing at the edge of the door made no move towards him, so Matt took a moment to get himself together. Why was he here again? Everything from before was a jumbled mess in his memories, and he was struggling to piece himself back together in a way that made sense. 

Zarkon. He remembered Zarkon. The enhancement! He’d been given his enhancement, that’s what this was all about.

Realistically, Matt had been anxiously awaiting the moment he’d be upgraded with an exciting new tech addition. Something to match his eyes. 

Matt giggled to himself as he scanned over his body for any sign of change. Enhancements usually aren't visible, but instead lay internal, making prisoners stronger or coming out while they fight. 

It was quickly clear this wasn't going to be the case for Matt. His eyes landed on a pair new metallic hands, eliciting a gasp from the boy.

“Holy Heckin’ Mother of Hell!” He screamed, he was groggy but his quizzical mind was working much faster than his lagging body. This was not normal! His new hands was a lot like Shiro’s arm, and he heard from others that that thing was deadly. He flexed his fingers and took note of how much they felt like normal hands. “Jesus take the wheel!”

Matt was pacing now, a habit from Earth, and testing the waters with his new hands. He clapped, run them through his hair, wiggled his fingers, picked things up.This boy was a kid in a candy shop as he stumbled through the florescent room. He bellowed as he karate chopped a table, laughed as he tried to make them shoot lasers.

Matt. Was. Stoked.

He was so absorbed in his completely unscientific experimentation that he didn't notice the double doors slide open behind him. Haggar stood waiting and eventually coughed to get his attention when her patience ran thin. Matt spun on his heels and gushed.

“What can they do?! Lasers? Do they transform? I’m literally a cyborg!” Matt could feel the electricity of his excitement palpable in the air. Goosebumps spread across his arms and he had to take a second just to catch his breath.

Haggar looked entirely less amused. “The abilities of your enhancement will depend upon your own quintessence, it ta-”

She was cut off by Matt's high pitched squeal and he began bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You’re fucking with me!? This was bonkers! It’s based on my quintessence? It’s like a superpower!…How do I turn them on?”

Haggar practically growled in frustration, eyes reflecting murderous intent she continued,“that will depend entirely on you. Only you can ‘turn them on.’”

She waved a hand before Matt could start babbling again, and with that he was dragged from the room and back to his cell.

He stepped in and the barrier closed behind him. The room fell into a hushed silence of anticipation. It was clear everyone knew what happened, and Matt was going to abuse this attention. Every last drop of it. He stood with his hands behind his back, spine straight, as a grin slowly spread across his face.

“Hello, welcome, and thank you for coming. I am sure you are all as excited as I am about this marvelous revelation. I would first like to give a thanks to my family for always supporting me, my agent for getting me this role, and Rin for being a handsome son of a gun.” He winked and Rin laughed “Get on with it!” 

Matt’s smile widened and he leapt into his best impression of an announcer,“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the moment you’ve allll been waiting for… drumroll please.” Marjie tapped a pattern into Sassy’s head at Matt’s request. “Introducing the new, the groovy, the tooootaally bougie, MATT.” 

He flung his hands out on the last word to show off the big metal mitts, and watched as the all the members of the little group’s eyes went wide. Matt showed off his new metallic hands like he was a model, practically vogueing as he pranced through the little cell. The group cheered and whistled, throwing questions in his direction. 

“Does it hurt?” Sassy asked.

“How long did it take?” A newer prisoner yelled.

“Why are you like this?” Smitty deadpanned.

“What do they do, you magnificent man?” Marj bellowed this one from Sassy’s shoulder, and the room hollered in agreement.

Matt gave them a sly smile and a shrug,”to hell if I know!”

This shut everyone up,”What, they didn’t tell you?”

“Nope! They basically said,’figure it out for yourself,’ and that’s what I plan to do next.” With that, Matt turned to the wall with a flourish and took a seat. A few who had advancements sat in a semicircle around him and told him how they activated their own. He focused hard, but it was really difficult to get them to do something when you don’t know what they were supposed to do.

“Maybe try meditation. Get in touch with your quintessence and learn to channel it or something?” Marj was speaking again, laying on her back and kicking her feet in the air.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” Matt contemplated for a moment. “Ya, I’ll try that!”

He laid back and closed his eyes. Focus. He’s the epitome of focus. Never scatterbrained. Never. He laughed to himself, this was hopeless. “Why am I like this indeed Smitty.”

The longer he sat, the harder it got. He was someone who lived in his mind, and, unfortunately, quintessence was a bit abstract for his liking. Tangible things, experiments, those were easier to contemplate. He was sure that if he could just see the quintessence, he could make it work. Matt lost track of time sitting there thinking, but was torn from his thoughts roughly as the barrier to the cell opened once more and a blaster was aimed his direction.

“Up.”

Hands raised, Matt followed. That nervous feeling was creeping back, but he shoved it down. He just got back in the cell that day, there’s no way they’d put him up against a single gladiator yet. He didn't even know what his hands could do.

 

Matt couldn’t have been more wrong.

The guards led him to the arena and shoved him into the wings to wait. The fear was back full force now as he look to the gladiator ahead of him. It was taller, stronger, and much less animalistic than those from his previous fights. It’s eyes held brutish intelligence, a far cry from the instinctual creatures he’d been fooling up until this point. 

It could also speak.

“Is this small thing the next one Balthier shall crush?!” It bellowed, arms spread to an adoring crowd that screamed and praised his taunts. “Do not worry! Balthier will not be too quick! Balthier knows how to entertain! Balthier will _Show. No. Mercy!"_ The crowd chanted the last three words along with Balthier, a practiced mimicry, a war cry. A catchphrase.

Panic surged through Matt, and his knees buckled throwing him to the ground. He was on all fours trying to get his vision to stop spinning. Balthier clearly had a reputation. It clearly won a lot. This was going to be impossible.

This was like Matt's very first fight. He was unprepared, not strong enough, and fucking terrified. 

He looked back up at Balthier and for the first time in a while Matt felt completely sure about something.

He was going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the other characters will come into play in later chapters! It won't only be Matt I swear! lol
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope ya dug it. Things had to go uphill before they could plummet downhill and I'm sure you all know they gatta go down before it can get better. I know I'm excited (:


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt's fight with Balthier leaves him more tormented than he'd like to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is violent.

Matt was on his opening mark in a boxer’s stance, sword in hand, facing the gladiator Balthier. His palms were damp with nerves and his heart jackrabbited in his chest. The gladiator continued its taunting, riling up the crowd and bringing their cheers to a crescendo.

He anxiously awaited the buzzer, passing the sword from hand to hand and trying to build some confidence. Matt had won a lot of fights. _A lot._ So what if Balthier seemed a little more _intense?_ Matt hadn’t left the arena seriously harmed in weeks, he could absolutely do this. He could do this even if he didn’t have functioning robot hands. Matt laughed to himself as he wiped his palms on his pants, an empty gesture as they no longer could get sweaty with nerves. The familiar feeling of adrenaline started to creep through him, and he forced himself to think,“I am going to win.”

Balthier made his way to his starting position and idly stretched, loudly popping his joints. He was big, ten feet easy, and covered in short, tawny fur. He seemed otherwise human-like, if one could ignore the bloodlust that rolled off him in waves. He was different from the other gladiators Matt fought. It was clear he did this because he liked it.

The buzzer sounded abruptly and Matt released a strangled breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Hello small one! Balthier has a request, do not die too quickly.” A murderous cackle ripped from Balthier as he started his descent upon Matt. Slow footfalls accelerated until he was sprinting, and Matt scrambled, deftly running and dodging as Balthier’s fists displaced the air around him. 

Matt all at once and all too sudden had the wind stolen from him as a large fist slammed into his side, knocking him to the ground. He tumbled wildly for a moment, but jumped back on his feet without hesitation. He tried to run again, but instead winced and grabbed his side. Ribs. It broke his ribs. He wheezed out a pained breath. Shit. _Shit._

There was a beat as he contemplated, and then he shifted his weight and turned on his heels. He couldn’t outrun Balthier, he needed to attack. The audience roared its assent as Matt rushed an amused looking Balthier.

“This was a dumb idea,” was the thought that crossed Matt’s mind right before Bathier’s fist slammed into his face with a sickening crunch. He blinked spots from his vision and something wet poured from his now broken nose, filling his mouth with iron. He quickly drew back, sword raised, and making a plan for this time around.

Matt was agile, if he could attack somewhere not so obvious, he should be able to make it past the fists. He went in again, attention a laser focus on his target. He spun away from an incoming left hook, landing at the gladiator’s side. Perfect. He grit his teeth and lunged forward, aiming the blade straight through Balthier’s oblique.

His heart sank as the sword made contact, but couldn't break skin. It glanced off the thick skin, forcing Matt to stumble with the unexpected trajectory.

“Why have they sent such a weak creature to fight Balthier?” It bellowed looking at the dumbstruck Matt. Useless, the sword was literally useless.

The next hit was different from the last, Balthier was holding back. He was fire and Matt was Hydrogen and Oxygen. Combustible. The moment they made contact an explosion of white hot pain seared in Matt’s chest causing his vision to swim and his body to go limp. It ripped through him with a vengeance, violently sending the boy flying several feet into the barrier.

“Shit!” His legs protested as he struggled to get back on his feet. He abandoned the useless sword and decided to run again, maybe think of a new plan 

The gladiator ambled towards him, and Matt’s frantic limping wasn't fast enough.

Another blow smashed into Matt’s back forcing him to tumble and somersault forward into an undignified heap. Blows rained down on the lithe teenager as he tried to curl in on his quickly bruising body. Balthier handled him like a rag doll, limply tossed and tormented.

His hands. Matt _needed_ to get his hands to work. He was wheezing and desperately trying to claw himself free from Balthier’s barrage. He’s body was broken, his sword was useless. Fuck his hands.

“Turn on, Turn on, Turn on, _turn ON._ Matt’s fists were clenched as he desperately screamed. Eyes closed and focused. He needed something anything, some heat, a spark, a sign he had a chance. 

The next blow made his ears ring as he was lifted over the gladiator’s head and thrown, slamming into the barrier with a hellish thud. The earth swayed as he tried to stand, falling from beneath him and bringing him to all fours. The audience was laughing. _laughing_ like he wasn't about to die, and he wanted to be sick.

“TURN ON! PLEASE” Matt choked out as he crawled away from Balthier, his body wracked with dry sobs. He’s going to _die._ The gladiator sauntered to him, arms outstretched and preening under the audience’s attention.

Suddenly Matt was flipped onto his back with Balthier’s boot. The gladiator took a moment to review the broken boy before he lifted his powerful leg abruptly over Matt.

“Balthier wishes he could say this was a good fight. But now, Balthier will _Show. No. Mercy!”_

His foot descended rapidly, and Matt couldn't get out of the way. He threw hands in front of his face in a weak attempt to protect himself, screams frantically unfurled from his lips piercing through the arena, “Stop! No, please! No, NO _NO!”_

The last yell, motivated by his desperation to live, stirred something in Matt. Be it fight or flight or something more, a brilliant, crackling light burst from his braced hands and into the beast above him.

Balthier withdrew, his shocked expression mirroring Matt’s own. 

They’re on. _They’re finally fricken on!_

Matt’s hands were buzzing with electricity. Threads of purple power danced and cracked in the air around him. His quintessence was electricity!

“Oh! So you do have more fight in you! Let us continue then little one!” The gladiator’s eyes held a new level of wild excitement, but likely so did Matt’s.

Nothing motivates a man like hope. Matt was back on his feet, despite his injuries, and with a new energy he didn't think possible. He was lucid, and he was ready. The neck, torso, underarms, all have nerve endings that stun a person when shocked. He had a small taser at home, for scientific purposes obviously, and he knew how to use it. Balthier looked almost human, it might work.

The gladiator stalked towards him hands raised, eyes hungry. “Show Balthier what you can do weakling.”

Adrenaline roared in Matt’s veins and he went for it, directly aiming at Balthier’s chest. He had one shot.

The gladiators fist swung forward and Matt slipped to the side narrowly missing it. He went to take a step in, but Balthier’s other hand was quickly swiping him back. The gargantuan fist swung out once more, but this time Matt ducked below it, dashed forward and slammed his palms into Balthier’s chest.

“Bingo.” He rasped and unleashed a torrent of electric shocks directly into the gladiator’s torso. The display strobed within the arena, and strands of lighting escaped the target and careened throughout the barrier.The impact of the blast sent Matt stumbling backwards and onto his behind, coughing the smell of burnt hair from his lungs. He looked up.

“That was a surprise!” Balthier was chuckling as he dusted the singed fur from his chest. “But, you will have to do better than that!”

Balthier’s foot connected with Matt, and he flew backwards slamming into the barrier for a final time. His heart plummeted. That was it, that was all he could do. He lay in a crumpled mess against the barrier, and gasped for breath. He couldn’t breath, and he wasn’t sure if it was from a punctured lung or the knowledge that he was absolutely a dead man. Both seemed equally likely.

He’d lost. He let his head fell back and his hands fall to his sides. His hand brushed against the sword he’d abandoned earlier and he picked it up. Not that it would help him, but it was a comfort nonetheless. He’d go out with his pride intact, thank you. 

Matt sighed and rubbed his had against the smooth metal, the only sound in his mind the buzzing barrier and Balthier’s booming voice. Matt’s brow furrowed and he pursed his lips, looking back to the barrier.

He had a plan.

He didn’t know the extent of what his hands could do, but he did know the barriers were electric, and he did know that metal was a phenomenal conductor. Matt shakily placed his left hand behind his back and his right on the sword. He focused, hard, on siphoning the electricity from the barrier and into the sword. 

It was not an easy task, but Matt could tell it was working as liquid fire shot through his veins. The feeling overwhelmed him, swallowing up his body’s soreness and making it scream. Balthier turned and started towards Matt, murderous intent lay pooled in his dark eyes, and Matt shivered. This might work. God, it _had_ to work. 

He shakily lifted the sword with what little remaining strength he had, and Balthier laughed.

“You are resilient, but it will do you no good!” He roared and rushed Matt, arms raised and ready to smash. One hit is all it would take. Matt just needed him to _touch_ the blade. That’s it. It might be enough to immobilize him. It might, so long as he touches it.

His heart thundered in his ears as Balthier drew closer, he struggled to keep the blade outstretched directly in front of him. Touch it. Just Touch it. Grab it, push it, touch it!

The sword buzzed and if it weren't for the clamoring crowd Balthier might have heard it. But he didn't hear it. Balthier raised his right fist high and used his left to push the sword away, clearing his path to Matt’s body.

Balthier froze, and seemingly so did time as the electricity ripped through him. He convulsed hectically, and his body sizzled and burned. The barrier behind Matt tapered in and out of existence as its power source was drained directly into the gladiator. After a few moments, Matt’s shock halted and he dropped the sword, pulling his hand back as if it bit him.

The convulsing quit, and Balthier collapsed into a silent mass on the floor.

The buzzer sounded and the crowd was pandemonium. Matt took one look at the once tawny fur now tinged black, and the full weight of what he’d done hit him. 

He did exactly what Zarkon wanted, he killed Balthier. 

Matt passed out then, his body finally giving way beneath the beating and the mental torment.

 

— — — 

 

Matt was probably dreaming. He’d become vaguely familiar with the particular ambiance of his Zarkon praising dreams, and that was the feeling he had right now. The only problem was that the content wasn't the same. 

He was the same small, gawky human boy from before the Kerberos expedition, that was normal. But what changed was that he remembered being a prisoner, even if it was foggy. That never happened. 

He also wasn’t currently viewing the plight of some alien race. Instead, he stood alone in an obsidian void.

“Hello,” he called out from cupped hands only to hear his voice come echoing back. Matt swallowed thickly, this was… off-putting. 

“Hello Matthew.” Matt jumped and spun to the voice that sounded behind him. His yellow-eyed doppleganger stood several feet away, arms at its side and face blank. It looked like he imagined he looked now, lean and sturdy, confident, hardened, scarred. It had both enhancements, and the eyes seemed to glow in the oppressively dark space.

“Okay, uh, let's get this over with?” Matt was vaguely gesturing and trying to shake the sinking feeling settling in his stomach. This was _wrong._. “Don’t you have some Zarkon propaganda to show me?”

Dream Matt’s eyes widened and its jaw dropped in an exaggerated gasp, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already Matt? It was really no big deal to you, huh?!”

Yellow eyes advanced at a slow prowl, and Matt took a step back, bumping into a wall that hadn’t existed only moments ago. It smirked and he felt like a field mouse being stalked by a lion, trapped with nowhere to go. He swallowed again, and forced himself to ask, “What are you talking about?”

It barked out a laugh, face splitting into a grin so garish its eyes squinted. There was humor resting in its yellow depths, but the smile didn’t reflect only enjoyment. It twisted into something more akin to malice, and, as it spoke, its words were fit to a mocking tone, “You _killed_ him Maaatt.”

“Excuse me,” Matt squeaked out, taken aback by the statement.

“Oh ho ho, don’t go forgettin’ on us buddy ol’ pal. Here I’ll jog your memory.” His twin skipped to the side as an image of Balthier tapered into existence at Matt’s feet. All of a sudden the smell of the arena, of burning, filled Matt’s lungs and he dry heaved. He pressed closer to the wall, getting as far away as he could get from the body. 

“What’s wrong Matt? Aren’t you proud of your handy work?” It whistled before leaning in closer to inspect the body with admiration, “Zarkon was right, you’re meant to be a murderer.”

A light snicker peeled from its chest and the wall inched forwards, sliding the desperately resisting Matt closer and closer to the body on the floor. 

“You’re wrong! It was an accident. I had to do it!” 

The yellow-eyed Matt grinned salaciously as it stalked around the body, its voice low and laced with a teasing venom “Is that so? You could have fooled me.”

The image of Balthier’s body popped out of existence and was replaced with a playback of the finals moments of battle. Matt watched in dismay as Balthier touched the sword, convulsing and dying for the second time that day. His dismay quickly turned to horror as the playback version of himself smiled and laughed in triumph, throwing its fists in the air and whooping. That couldn’t be right!

“That’s not me, you're lying. I didn’t, _couldn’t,_ have been so… happy.” Matt’s breath came out in short spurts and he grasped the cloth near his neck. He couldn’t breath, everything was claustrophobic. That wasn’t him. He wouldn’t.

Yellow eyes tutted in response, “Matt, Matt, Matt, you can’t lie to me. I _am_ you. I know you enjoyed it because _I_ enjoyed it.” It was walking closer, eye boring a hole in the now quivering and confused Matt. 

“Shut up.” He weakly whispered. He pressed further against the wall and willed it to swallow him whole.

“You’re a monster Matt. You were made for this, and it _suits_ you.” It spread its arms wide and smiled as the cheering arena crowd materialized around them. “You belong with the Galra Matt. You thrive in violence, and your ‘friends’ would abandon you if they only knew. They’d _never_ forgive what you did… Jeez, and what about _Shiro?”_

It paused as Matt slunk to the floor, hands deliriously grasping at his ears in an attempt to quell the other’s voice. Its speech continued clearly, a swell within his mind unfettered by the rules of reality.

“Shiro will never forgive a killer like you, Matt. Your family would be disgusted. You’re completely alone! Tainted, broken, _soiled goods._ ” It couched in front of Matt and used its hand to force him to meet its smiling gaze “But not to Zarkon! I know you know it. I’m not saying anything you haven’t already thought Matt. Give in to your desire. Taking a life, its euphoric isn't it?”

“No.” This whisper was even weaker than the last, and the playful smile grew on its lips. It stood abruptly, and the crowd fell away. Once again, Matt was watching the final moments if his fight with Balthier.

“Zarkon thinks it is too. There is no moment where you are stronger than when you take a life! Doesn’t it feel great to finally be strong? Really strong? You’re not useless anymore, Matt. You finally have a purpose.”

Suddenly the smile dropped and It got very serious as it leaned in close and spoke. “You were born for the slaughter, and Haggar has made you into a weapon so much better than _this,_ ” It gestured to the huddled Matt quivering on the floor. “You will kill again Matt, and you will learn how much you love it.”

Dream Matt donned one final grin before giving a lazy wave,”Tata for now Matt. Vreppit saaa." It vanished, leaving Matt alone once again with the arena playback on repeat for a captive audience of one. Matt spent the rest of his sleep tormented, forced to watch Balthier’s grotesque death and his own disgustingly happy response over and over again. 

His smile burned itself into his memories, and Matt did his best to assure himself the dream was a lie, just like the others. It was all a lie. He couldn't be a killer. _Wouldn’t._

It continued like this until Matt woke up, happy for the small relief. 

Groggily he stepped from the healing pod, his broken body fully mended. The only traces of the fight were a smattering of new scars covering his body and the images tattooed on his eyelids. He shivered. Matt was quickly carted off to the cell. He wasn’t given the luxury of having time to himself to let his mental wounds coagulate, and his nerves felt rubbed raw. Shit. He couldn’t let them see him like this. He had a roll to fill. He was one of the strong ones. He was the man with a plan. He’s always been the happy go-lucky guy that never lost hope!

Matt let out a heavy exhale and smacked his cheeks to focus before stepping into the cell. He smiled and couldn’t help but note how strained it felt. He’d try though. For the sake of the other prisoners Matt would do his best to keep his dark thoughts and emotions under lock and key. He smiled with practiced aplomb. He could do this.

The moment the room laid eyes on him they fell silent. A few exchanged concerned glances. 

“What’s wrong Matt?” 

Matt inwardly winced. Emotions, the treacherous things, demanding to be noticed despite Matt’s best effort.

“Nothing! Ha, worry warts! I kicked some major… “ his smile wavered only briefly,“I won!”

“Matt… It’s okay you can tell us?” Sassy looked overly concerned and on the verge of tears. 

Matt’s smile fell and he awkwardly rubbed his arms. Maybe he could tell them? They were almost like a family after all. How many times had they all come together to comfort others for every reason under the sun? 

_Your ‘friends’ would abandon you if they only knew._

The voice from dream whispered in the back of his mind and shut him down. What if it was right? He couldn’t risk losing them. Not right now. Matt felt like he was drowning in the feeling of dread, desperate to break surface, and he wasn’t willing to alienate the only lifeline he had left. 

He swallowed and smiled again. “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s talk about someone else.”

The room fell into uncomfortable silence for what felt like an eternity. They were clearly looking for a way to help him, and all he did was shoot them down. Matt might feel guilty about it if that particular emotion wasn’t already being run ragged.

“Hey, Why don't you tell us about Champion again? That usually cheers you up.” The braggart Smitty was sitting against the wall with his arms crossed. An embarrassed expression flitted across his face briefly before being replaced with an annoyed scowl. 

Matt saw the invitation, and recognized he needed to respond. Shit. Why was such normal interaction becoming so onerous? 

"I'm speechless, are you actually passing up the opportunity to talk about yourself Smitt?” There seemed to be a collective sigh from the room as Matt effectively broke the tension. Smitty only huffed.

"I resent that, and I resent you” this elicited chuckles from the rest of the room. Some normal chatter continued and Matt found his place against the wall. He joked along with them, albeit rather strained, and everyone seemed to relax. The usual banter was helping, providing a useful distraction. They each had a role to play. They were cogs in a machine, and if one broke they’d all flounder. 

Matt wouldn’t let that happen.

The others weren’t privy war raging just below the surface, and he planned to keep it that way. This battle was a one time thing. He’d win without killing in every fight from now on, and he’d prove to his dream-self that it was wrong. He continued to assure himself with steely resolve, everything would be fine.

Rin sat beside him, interrupting his thinking, and speaking gently.

“Really, brother, what happened? Are you okay?”

_You’re a monster._

“We're here for you know? We all understand.”

_They’d never forgive you for what you did._

Rin placed his hand on Matt’s arm and the boy jerked away on reflex. He responded to Rin’s concerned expression with a nervous laugh and some assurance. “I’m really fine, just tired.”

The alien hardly looked convinced, but Matt wouldn’t need to be convincing for long. He placed his own hand on Rin’s shoulder, a silent pledge. He was going to make everything okay.

 _You will kill again Matt, and you will learn how much you love it._

No. His dream was just that, a dream. He was going to fix this. If it was the last thing he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you thank you thank you. Writing this is so fun for me and the idea that anyone is reading it is so exciting! I hope you've enjoyed! Let me know what you think!
> 
> I was doing a lot of the final editing last minute on this chapter but I wanted to put it out before I went to work, so if you see any mistakes let me know!
> 
> Also, I'm super excited for the next couple chapters. Most of their content has been prewritten for weeks because I got like late night inspiration. lol it's going to get more intense for Matt and I can't wait to finish them!
> 
> Thanks again!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt has some internal struggles as he's faced with more and more death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence and death.
> 
> If you're super death averse let me know and I will write you a censored version where no one with a name dies. lol

Matt used to really revel in being right. But realistically, who wouldn’t? His academic knowledge was only rivaled by his knowledge of memes and obscure references, so he had a lot of information floating around up there. He was not someone you want to face in trivia.

So, the fact that he was wrong and couldn’t _fix_ anything, even though he’d told himself he’d make everything better, was driving him crazy. A few days after his fight with Baltheir, he was carted off for another, and then another. Each round brought him within an inch of death, and each round was kill or be killed. 

“It’s not on purpose,” he assured himself, “you don't have a choice.” But that didn’t bring him the relief he was looking for. He _wanted_ a fucking choice. He wasn't some pawn to be messed with, a thing that could be broken and brought to a heel.

So he fought harder.

“If I can become a better fighter, I’ll be able to win without killing them,” he theorized. He started focusing on training when in the cell. They still only sent the strongest into the group gladiator fights, so it made sense for Matt to spar with them when they were willing. He strategized when they weren’t. 

But, the better he got, the more difficult the gladiators were to defeat. Harder and harder, he left each fight more bloody than the last and with one more life gnawing on his conscience. After every battle he was hastily stitched together in the pods, given a couple days of break, and shipped back into the ring to further stain his hands red.

He was frustrated, he was angry, and _worst_ of all he was getting used to it. Normalizing the heinous crimes done to him, and that he did unto others. He was fighting a losing battle trying to remind himself the gladiators were people who didn't deserve to die, because giving into the peaceful numbness, the feeling that everything was fake, that was becoming incredibly _enticing._ And that was a fucking mess because if this numb feeling continued, overcoming the guilt and the anxiety, he wasn't sure exactly what he’d be capable of doing.

As the weeks passed, Zarkon continuously upped the intensity. It wasn’t unusual for Matt to fight, be healed, and fight again. Back to back to back, he spent less and less time in the cell. And that cell, with the people in it, was the only thing anchoring him to his humanity. 

When he was back with them, he could almost forget everything. He could preoccupy his tormented psyche with trying to make them laugh and bringing them the peace of mind he wanted himself. That provided a modicum of solace in the nightmare that was his new life, urging him forward and holding him together. 

He never told them the truth about what all the killing. He couldn’t. They would look at him differently and he couldn’t lose them right now. On particularly bad days, where he was sure they’d see the cracks in his trained nonchalance, he just pretended to be tired and went immediately to sleep. Since Matt fought more than everyone else, they bought this excuse. Making their time there better, that was his new purpose. He desperately fought to hold what little was left of his new family together before it too was gone. Of course, with sleeping came the dreams.

“They’re pretending to like you Matt. They know what you did. You’re a killer, and they aren't. They’d never understand.” His dream-self berated him. Tormented his nights in an elaborate interplay with his mornings. Each new kill joined him in his dreams, just as Balthier had, and it was getting crowded. The yellow eyes couldn’t look more gleeful,“How many lives have you taken now Matt? Don't you see how adept you are at this?” 

He did.

Matt left each day physically broken and mentally shattered. He was just a mosaic of jagged pieces, sea glass battered and beaten on the shore until he became opaque and dull. The smooth pieces were shaped into something entirely not himself, held together with a weak polymer of human resilience and purpose.

He'd be lying if he didn't say he was teetering on the brink. The brink of what, he was unsure, but each dream, each fight, left the pieces of Matt feeling a little less secure. He already had a strained relationship with his sanity, and another straw might break this camel’s back.

So, he started planning ways to escape. He passed the escape pods, two corridors down from the healing pods, each day he was healed. He’d sit for hours and regale the cell with convoluted plans to get to the those pods and off the ship, and they’d always play along.

“Were getting out of here on the back of four Yuppers. I will hack the mainframe of the ship, find where they keep pets, bring them to the cell, and we will ride them victoriously through the sentries and to the escape pods!” Matt was reclining against the wall with a practiced smirk on his face. The room was groaning.

“With all the time you waste getting the Yuppers, couldn't we just run to the pods?” Marj laughed.

“You sure you’re confident you could manage all that on your own?” Smitty was leaning in, challenging Matt.

Matt laughed, “Oh ye of little faith! We need the Yuppers to get through the sentries obviously, and I am _beyond_ confident I could do it Smitt.” Matt challenged back and Smitty scoffed in return.

“What if there aren't any Yuppers?” Sass asked, gaining assent from the aliens around him.

“Okay FINE, better plan since that one was _apparently_ awful. I hack into the ship again, but this time I reprogram the sentries. We then ride _them_ to the escape pods! Everyone gets their own, I get tw-“

Matt was cut off as the barrier fell and a guard stepped in.

“Up.”

Matt felt the familiar cold grip of fear tighten around his heart, and his smile faltered. He couldn’t quell it, not really, no matter how many group fights they left unscathed. Marj and Rin led the line this time around, and they were both incredibly strong. The chances of them losing were slim to none, but even that possibility was enough. The other’s wouldn’t be able to tell, but Matt’s nerves were on edge as he marched behind his friends.

They stopped in the wings of the arena as usual, and Matt calmed his breathing before shooting a smile and a thumbs up at the back of the line. The newer prisoners stood there and they were already looking nervous. He wanted them to know they’d be fine. Heck, they wouldn't even step in the ring. They seemed to relax under his gaze, so he turned back to the arena to see what gladiator his friends would be facing.

 

The arena was empty.

 

“That’s weird. You think it’s invisible?” He whispered to Rin who shrugged, looking as confused as Matt felt.

“No idea, brother.”

The barrier fell quickly, and Matt watched as a group of about 15 prisoners, like them, filed into the arena from the opposite side with swords and shields in hand. Before he could question it, the guards approached their unit of 21, handing each a sword and a shield of their own.

Matt’s heart bottomed out as he panicked. He looked to his friends faces, each reflecting back to him the same pure unadulterated panic. They’ve never fought other prisoners before, and they’ve _never_ seen a _group_ fight.

The guards began pushing the members of his cell into the arena. The newer prisoners were crying and desperately fighting against the guards. Almost no one in this group had experience fighting because the strongest had been taking on the gladiators for the past few months. Matt’s palms got sweaty, and his blood roared and burned as it surged through him. How on earth were the few practiced fighters going to protect all of the weaker prisoners?

They were pushed all into the arena, and he tried to think of something, anything that would remedy the situation and save his friends. He was desperate, grasping at mental straws for a plan and coming up blank. There was no precedent for this, he had no time to strategize.

“No.” He whispered as the barrier rose around them and the buzzer sounded. The opposing prisoners charged at his group, weapons raised and voices a chorus of war cries. His group held the strongest few in front with everyone else cowering behind. 

“Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit!!!” Matt was yelling his frustration, a frenzied mess. This wasn't going to work!

He started cutting down opponents as they drew near. He felt a twinge of guilt with each prisoner’s face he sent into a convulsing mess, they were just as forced into this as he was, but he had to protect his family. It’s us or them, and he wasn’t using enough force to kill. He grit his teeth, “It’s fine.” 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Marj jumping from face to face, draining the enemies' energy so that Sassy could tear them down quickly. He saw them falter and watched as a few got past at began attacking the newer people whose unskilled hands fumbled with their swords. “No!”

Matt desperately ran to protect them, but was quickly overwhelmed. He couldn’t help anyone but himself. 

He bellowed out as he fought the people around him. Yelling to whatever God was out there to protect his friends.

“Matt! Gah… H-Help!” He heard someone scream his name from near by, maybe Smitty, and he immediately turned to help. He was awarded with a hit to the back of the head that knocked him to the ground. The prisoners fighting him rushed past his fallen body to attack those he’d been protecting. Around him the sounds of warfare roared, and he blinked the growing spots out of his eyes. “Get up!” he was mentally screaming at himself “They are relying on you Matt, GET UP!”

He staggered to his feet. The sounds of battle seemed far away, muffled as the ringing in his ears grew louder. 

“Matt!” The voice was underwater, and he desperately stumbled towards it as the world tipped back and forth beneath him. Smitty was facing off against three separate people, and he was clearly losing. Matt tried to run to him, to help, but his limbs tangled around themselves. “Smitt!” He choked out.

Matt watched uselessly as Smitty… no Berik, the rude but fantastic storyteller, was killed in front of him remorselessly. He watched Berik stare at the blade protruding from his chest in surprise before reaching for Matt and collapsing. The opposing prisoners, paying his fallen friend no regard, slipped in his think green blood as they turned to deal Matt the same fate. 

Matt had been resting on the precipice of disaster, and _this_ was his tipping point. 

He snapped. 

Seeing red, he began fighting, _really_ fighting, unlike he ever had before. His swift movements, usually reserved for dodging, were now dedicated to getting as close to his enemies as possible. He killed with no regret, mentally analyzing each individual’s weakest point and striking. It was precise, it was calculated, and it was quick.

He _wouldn’t_ allow another friend to die.

Matt couldn’t think of anything but the carnage, it sang to him, screamed his name. He was becoming the beast from his dreams, and he reveled in it. Fuck, he needed it. 

When the buzzer rang, Matt was covered in blood and sinew. Burnt bodies lay in his wake.

He numbly turned back to his team. There were seven of the twenty-one remaining. Em’Rin, Marjie, Sass, Matt, and three newer prisoners the other’s managed to protect.

He felt what little remained of his optimistic nature crumple as his heart was ripped from his chest and trampled. He’d lost 14 friends today. He let 14 people die on his watch. Heck, he set them up for it, letting them avoid fighting and giving the responsibility to others. They never stood a chance, and it was _his_ fault.

He took in the sight of his fallen cell mates, the people whose lives he knew so intimately. He mourned for them briefly before he was pushed from the arena. That was it, the only mourning they’d ever get. He felt a sob escape his chest, but as always his metal eyes remained dry. “Fuck,” his spoke the airy words with force, his throat closing around a growing lump. “Fuuuuuuuck!”

 

The cell was silent that night. And the next. In fact, it was silent until the next group battle, where they let the line be made randomly. No one died, but no one felt particularly good about that either. 

Each night, Matt’s dreams were filled with the images of his fallen comrades. They blamed him for what happened, and frankly he did too. With how little he did to preserve their lives, he might as well have held the sword that slain them. They agreed.

His dream-self orchestrated the torment, mocking him with a gleaming smile and cold yellow eyes. “You couldn’t save them. They trusted you and you just let them all die. You’re no good at protecting Matt, but killing? Hoo boy! Imagine how many would have lived if you started off as powerfully as you ended. Not to mention, you enjoyed killing the other prisoners. You're a psychopath Matt, admit it.”

It wore smug well, and Matt couldn't find it in him to argue. It was right. He’d tried to be something he wasn’t, strong, a leader. Someone like Shiro, a name that seemed to represent a ghost of a memory now. No, Matt was weak, and Matt was useless. They died, and Matt was to blame. 

He quit trying to be that person, and spent his days silently to himself, thinking. The group finally got a glimpse of the broken Matt he’d been hiding up until then.

 

Sassy was the first to try and fix the situation. He encouraged everyone to speak about how they felt, encouraged them to cry. Matt couldn’t cry. Matt wouldn’t speak. Sass and Marj gave a lot of hugs, they reminisced, and they tried to get Matt to open up again. Sassy’s gentle spirit and kind words were doing wonders on the other prisoners, and Marj was, as always, his dedicated and cheerful supporter from atop his shoulder.

Then, one day, Marj was taken for her individual fight.

She didn't come back. 

Sassy stopped trying to get people to open up. Sassy stopped speaking altogether. 

New people were brought to the cell, and they took on the silent, morose personas as well. Matt knew this was wrong, and that he, as their decided leader, should try to make them hopeful. But he couldn't find the motivation to care. They were all going to die anyway, whether he tried to help or not.

What he did do, though, was continue to think about escape. The only way they could possibly survive would be by getting of this godforsaken ship. He couldn't take this oppressive feeling anymore, and he didn’t want to deal with the death. He _would_ get off this ship. He knew where the pods were, he knew how to fight. It became his obsession, a fixation on planning scenarios for escape. He had a plan for literally anything and everything. Matt _just_ needed an opportunity. He was ready.

 

An alarm blared outside the prisoner's cell, shaking them from their stupor as a voice echoed through the halls.

“Security Alert. Champion has escaped. Units to sector 8.”

Matt _just_ needed an opportunity. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Let me know whatcha think.
> 
> I also apologize for all the angst and grief, but Matt needed to be BROOKEENN!! lolol
> 
> I might update again in a couple days! The next like three chapters are mostly written already, so i'm contemplating it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and his fellow prisoners attempt their escape.

Matt found himself standing up unconsciously. The words repeated in his head.

_“Champion has escaped. Units to sector 8.”_

An alarm screeched through the hallway, and Matt watched as groups of guards filtered from one end of the ship to the other. They were going _away_ from the nearest escape pods. 

Matt ran to the door, mind on autopilot, not hearing the questioning cries from the other prisoners. He placed his hands on the particle barrier locking them in, exhaled, and released a short burst of as much energy as he could muster. The barrier short circuited, just for a second, before flying back into place, but that was all Matt needed. In that second, he jumped through, landing on the opposite side before it rematerialized. The others ran and pressed themselves against the barrier, loudly cheering for Matt as he typed in the password he saw and memorized months ago. The barrier fell and each prisoner rushed through. A frenetic energy contagiously passed from person to person, and the group was abuzz with adrenaline and a hope they’d long since abandoned. 

This was it. This was their chance. 

“Let’s go! Follow me, I know where the pods are!” Matt bellowed to the group who fell in step behind him. They made their way down the short corridors brashly, dashing and slipping around corners as they sprinted. The only things they encountered in the hallways were the robotic sentries, and the group of prisoners destroyed them with ease. They rushed past the fluorescent room, and Matt felt his pulse spike in anticipation. They were so close!

“We’re almost there guys! Keep it up! We’re getting out of here!” There where whoops and hollers behind him as they picked up the pace. Matt allowed himself for a second to feel that hope and excitement the others were feeling. It overtook the guilt and the grief, and he smiled. It ebbed away at the dark corners of his mind and he felt _alive._ He laughed as he ran, and whooped along with the others. They were going to make it! They were finally out of this hell hole!

Matt turned the final corner and heard cheers as the escape pods came into view. Beautiful shining beacons of purple tinted hope, and all they needed to do was step inside. 

Matt was the first to reach the pods, he skidded to a halt and screamed “Shotgun” at the group before slamming his palm onto the control panel. He waited.

Nothing happened. 

He slammed his palm down again, with more force this time. Nothing. The prisoners stopped cheering as they watched Matt bend down and inspect the control panel. He’s seen people use the control panels, this is how they did it right? Why wasn't the display changing? Anxiety spread like a noxious gas, suffocating the group and their hope. To come so far only to be stopped at the door to their freedom without a key. To be found on Zarkon’s ship, trying to escape. They would all be punished, and it would be completely Matt’s fault once again. Shit.

Matt’s heart rate sped up, and he tried to read the words on the screen. He turned a little desperately, “Guys, I can’t read Galran, someone tell me what this says?”

A newer prisoner stepped forward, her skinny body was unmarred and her fearful gaze not yet hardened. She scanned the words, “It says…” she gasped, eyes wide, “‘Ship Lockdown: Access Denied!’ No!” 

“Shit.” Matt racked his hands through his hair roughly. Fuck. They made it so far, Shit. 

His voice giggled in his head, “You can’t help anyone Matt, you’re a murderer not a savior.” He slammed his palms against his forehead to get it to stop. The hysteria was insidious, quickly spreading through the group. They were all babbling and pacing with fervor. He needed to do something. Think stupid, think think think.

“Patience yields virtue.” 

Matt slapped his cheeks and breathed. This was their moment. If he heard right, Shiro was escaping right now, and Matt wanted more than anything to join him. He went to back the wall and tried to find a way to open the control panel.

Nothing. It was smooth and inlaid with the metal wall. He sent some shocks through, nothing. All the while, his group chattered and cried behind him, it was a motivation. He failed them all once before. It wouldn’t happen again. 

He knew what he had to do.

“Rin!” Matt yelled over the clamor. Immediately Rin stepped forward, a face of resolve. He was ready to follow Matt’s command without question. 

“Rin! I can’t open the pod here, I’m going to the main control room. Keep everyone here and safe. The _moment_ those doors open, you get everyone inside and you take off.” Matt spoke with finality, his feet already turning to run down the hallway.

“Wait! Let me come with you. Sass ca-“ Matt cut him off with a terse shake of the head and a look that spoke volumes about his fate. 

Rin was conflicted for a moment, but he did understand. He didn’t agree with Matt’s decision, self-sacrifice was never acceptable. Nonetheless, if Matt said it was necessary he’d listen. Rin gave a knowing nod and a silent promise. They’d escape safely, all of them. It was the least he could do for all Matt had done for them.

“We won't forget you, brother.” Rin gripped his hand and whispered below the noise, not wanting to give the group another reason to panic. He wore a serious, driven expression Matt imagine matched his own. 

Matt stood straighter and addressed the entire crowd, speaking loudly and with purpose. “I am going to the control room and opening this up. You’ll all leave immediately and I’ll join you afterwards on my own pod!” He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. “Goodbye, see ya’ll on the other side.”

With that he turned and ran, the voices of his comrades becoming faded in the distance as he twisted and turned through the Galran corridors. Matt was going to the control room to shut off the lockdown, and there was a very good chance he wouldn’t be getting on a pod. There was a very good chance he’d be killed.

He huffed out a breath and picked up his pace. Matt was okay with dying. If anything, it seemed more and more like a welcomed break at this point. L'appel du vide. “The call of the void.” It beckoned him with increased urgency the longer he stayed on that ship, and Matt numbly recognized today might just be the day for giving in to that desire.

But he _wouldn’t_ be responsible for the loss of any more of his friend’s lives. His heart thundered in his chest as his feet hit the floor with increasing speeds. He was a forest fire, a wild and uncontainable force blazing through the halls and demolishing every sentry in his path.

He slowed as he approached the control room. There were three Galran guards standing over the controls with agitation, and barking orders through coms. From his vantage point, Matt could see there were a lot of small ships taking off, likely searching for Shiro. He breathed and focused, bringing the familiar warm buzz to his hands. They were distracted, no chance.

Matt dashed from his hiding point, body low, and took down one guard before they even knew he was there. The second spun and went to attack but was too slow, he fell to Matt’s feet shaking as well. The final pulled out her sword and held it at Matt’s throat, forcing him to still.

“Don't come any closer or I’ll slaughter you. Get on the ground.” Matt didn’t comply, he didn’t have time to comply. He dashed forward and dodged the brunt of the attack. He got himself a nasty gash along his jaw and numbly catalogued something wet and warm pouring down his neck before he sent the Galran soldier into convulsions.

He skittered in front of the empty control panel and halted. 

“Okaay. What the what?” It was nothing like anything he’d ever used. Not only that, he didn’t speak Galran. Of course it’s in Galran. Shit. What made him think he could do this? He couldn’t do this.

_The only thing you're good for is killing._

“AHG!” Matt cried out in frustration and slammed his palms down on the metallic control panel. “Fuck it! We’ll do it live!”

He went to work, breaking down firewalls and changing codes. It was a slow process at first as he familiarized himself with the new technology, but once he got a general understanding of what he was doing it went much faster. First things first, he closed the doors to the control room and locked them. He couldn’t risk anyone stopping his work before he finished. His fingers flitted over the keyboard and he heard the metal clank shut behind him.

“Veni.”

He pulled up the cameras and watched as his group paced before the pods. A few brought down metallic sentries around them, but the task wasn’t a difficult one. Matt smiled, they were fine. They were going to be fine.

“Vidi!”

He felt the rush again. Excitement. Hope. His plan was working and he was almost there. Now for the hard part. It took longer than he would have liked, getting the ship off of a lockdown. There was a lot of computerized red tape. A bunch of passwords he didn’t have access to, and instructions he couldn't read. Matt worked diligently, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose and onto the keyboard as his fingers dashed back and forth. 

He was good at fighting now, sure. And he could maybe will himself to admit he was good at killing, much to his doppelganger's smug pleasure. Technology though, that would always be his calling in life. Despite the new interface, he broke through the Galran barriers with ease. He smiled wildly, eyes flashing as he made the last few keystrokes.

“Vici!!”

He looked back to the cameras with excitement and watched the doors to the pod slide open. Rin ushered everyone on board before joining them himself. Matt heard pounding and shouts behind him, coming from the door to the control room, but ignored it. This was it. He watched with bated breath as the pod’s doors slid shut. He counted down with the timer “10, 9, 8, 7, 6,..!” and felt his heartbeat quicken with each tick.

When the pod hit one and shot from the side of the ship, Matt couldn’t hope to stop the cheer that ripped from his throat. Matt felt transcendent. He did it. There was nothing the Galra could do. Everything he loved was off that ship, and he did it. He saved them! Finally, they were all free!

He turned on the ship's outer cameras and watched as the pod hurdled through space. He quickly went through some more coding and disconnected the tracker on the pod. Safe. He giggled a little uncontrollably. They were finally safe. 

The pounding behind him picked up intensity and Matt regarded it with disinterest. He probably had a couple more minutes to himself before they broke in here and killed him, ending it all. He tried to make himself feel sad, that’s the appropriate feeling to have on your deathbed, right?

He shrugged to himself and smiled again, he couldn’t care less and it was freeing. He walked back to the control panel and fiddled with it as he waited for the doors behind him to come crashing down. Here he was, his final moments, a tormented boy with nothing to lose and an entire ship’s control at his fingertips. He smirked as he pulled up the main controls.”Why the fuck not?”

He decided the rest of his decisions for the day were going to be to the theme of “Why the fuck not?” For months, shit maybe even years, Zarkon had berated and tormented and, frankly, tortured him and his family. In this position of power, Matt wanted to spread the chaos that had been growing within him. He wanted to break Zarkon, but, since he couldn’t, he’d settle for breaking the ship. He’d break the whole damn system.

The pounding behind him went down an octave as the soldiers began ramming into the door with something heavy. Unable to quell his widening grin, Matt changed the sentry programing. He pulled up the camera and watched as the soldiers outside the control room door were swarmed by their own robotic men. The sentries throughout the ship should now be getting on the same program, and Matt was gasping for breath between laughs. Next he wiped the hard drive, and watched as hundreds of documents disappeared.

So maybe he was being a little over the top, a little hysterical. Unhinged even. Who fucking cares right? He slammed a finger down again and pulled up the prisoner’s cells on the camera. With another click he turned on the ship's com link, and projected his voice through the halls of the Galra’s prisoners.

“I am going to light up the hallways in a path to the escape pods and shut the ship down everywhere else. Follow the dancing lights my friends!”

He went to work again, cutting power to the cells with particle barriers. The cells with thick metal doors required a physical key, so he couldn’t help them, but half was enough. Half was something, and something was enough. 

Matt felt alive, electric, untethered to any rules or roles. He could think straight and he was _finally_ helping. 

The prisoners flooded the hallways and Matt quickly did as he promised, lighting their path to the pods. As they all desperately ran, he used his eidetic memory to do what he did best, make obscure references. The boy took a deep breath and quoted Braveheart over the speakers. His voice was laced with power and he gestured theatrically for an audience that didn’t exist.

“You’ve come to fight as free men, and free men you are! What will you do with that freedom?!”

The video feed was silent, but he could see the prisoners yell to the heavens as they ran. He felt their energy, their hope. He yelled with them, fists raised “Alba gu bràth! FREEEDOM!!!”

The pounding behind him raised in intensity again and the doors began to bend under the weight. Matt laughed, “any minute now.”

The guards were preoccupied with the sentries, allowing the majority of the prisoners to make it onto the pods before being sent careening into space. With his final moment, Matt made the pods as untraceable as his own cell’s pod, and turned to face the door.

It ripped out of the wall and fell to the floor with a loud metallic clank. The hole in the wall was filled with furious, weapon yielding Galrans. Matt smiled at them and threw his arms out wide.

“You're too late. The Persian messenger already presen-erk.” 

They attacked, slamming his face against the control panel. Matt struggled violently, kicking and writhing as the soldiers attempted to restrain his hands and feet.

“Let go of me you damned dirty apes!” He spat at them with faux anger before he was once again overtaken by giggles. He couldn't reel himself in, he was cracking. The pressure had gotten to him and now it was like his entire body was made of laughter desperate to escape. This was it, the end was neigh! He was finally going to be free from the killing, from the voices in his head, and from all the fucking grief. He was going to die.

Two guards hoisted the crazed boy up by the arms. 

Matt was dragged away kicking and laughing. The alarm still blared, creating a surreal thrum of a soundtrack as it mingled with his hysterical guffaws.

 

— — —

 

The Earthling was carried into the room by its shoulders. He was held a foot above the ground and he scissored his feet back and forth while humming the imperial march. The moment the creature's eyes landed on Zarkon, they lit up and he stopped humming.

“Zarky!” he exclaimed before the guards threw him roughly the his knees. He thudded down with a grunt, but was quickly back to smirking at the Emperor. “Did you like my handy work? How many got off the ship? I estimated at least a hundred!” The boy squealed in glee and Zarkon responded with an enraged scowl.

“You have cost this ship heavily in both repairs and in prisoners. What prompted you to act so imprudently. You must have known you’d be punished.” His voice was bitter and directed at Matt. He expected the creature to bristle, cower, but it met his gaze dead on and chuckled darkly.

“Some people just want to watch the world burn.” Matt did a poor rendition of a Michael Cain accent before laughter spilled from him, “oh, and because uh fuh-fuh-fuck you!”

Haggar stepped forward, furious. “Do you find this humorous Earthling? Your disrespect may very well cost you your life!” 

Both Haggar and Zarkon were taken back when this only made the Earthing laugh harder, doubling over. After catching its breath, it looked back up at the two, a dark smile spread across its face.

“Don’t you dare threaten me with a good time, Haggar.”

This was unexpected. Anger, silence, fear; those were the responses Zarkon often encountered. But humor? 

He smirked, it seemed their _tampering_ had been effective. They’d broken the boy.

Haggar had been manipulating the small creature's dreams for months. Forcing him to see what they decided through the eyes she planted within him. Zarkon had forced its hand in killing. The process was mainly experimental. They were attempting to break his psyche and bring him to a heel, make him pliable. Looking at the giggling creature before them, it seemed they were victorious. 

When the Earthling abandoned all qualms with killing and let loose in the group battle, the boy _proved_ he could be useful. He was fast, merciless, and efficient, and, had their plan continued accordingly, Zarkon would have had the Earthling as his pawn of the human’s own volition. 

The plans were interrupted unfortunately by Champion’s escape, but Zarkon wasn't yet ready to forgo the killer he'd conditioned, created, culled. Especially not after losing his prized weapon, Champion, all too soon. No, they simply needed a new plan.

Zarkon regarded the small Earthling as if he were nothing more than a pestilent child. “I see you have grown a backbone, small one.” He hummed. “Fantastic, though it may do you more harm than good. May I speak with you frankly?”

If the human was confused by this change in tone, he made no motion to address it. Instead, he nodded with exaggerated respect, “Absolutely, I am nothing if not affable.” 

“I believe you would make an excellent addition to the Galran empire, small one. You have proven yourself a fantastic killer, and I wish to have you.”

Matt flinched for a moment, his inner dialogue giving its assent in response to Zarkon's words. The boy shook his head and responded with a sneer.

“Listen. There is _literally_ nothing you could do that would make me help you.” a sardonic smile stitched itself across his features “Everything I care for is off of this ship. You can’t threaten a man with nothing to lose, Zarkon.” 

“Oh? I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Haggar.” Zarkon's deep voice rand with dark promise as he turned to the woman beside him.

"Bring in prisoner 117-9875” she spoke with authority to the guards behind Matt, but they remained still. Haggar’s eyes lit from within and the human's soon followed suit. 

She raised a hand and used the boy's eyes to project a mirage of an image into his mind. He turned in shock to the door and watched as his beloved friend, unseen to the others in the room, was dragged before him. Haggar made the false Champion weak and badly beaten, adorning it with a swollen face and bloodied clothing. She grinned as the small human’s face fell.

“Takashi?” he gasped, “What are you doing here? I thought you escaped. Shiro I-" the boy pulled back as he listened to the hallucination, and his expression only grew darker. Zarkon was not privy to whatever gruesome image Haggar was conjuring for the boy’s eyes alone, but, knowing Haggar, it was merciless. And, he didn't need to see it to see the marvelous effect it was having. The boy whimpered and crumpled in on himself, his laughter was long silenced. If he wasn't broken before, his face showed he was now. 

Zarkon smiled. Perfect.

“Have you reconsidered my offer?” He stalked closer to the shaking boy, and placed a clawed hand upon his head. The boy flinched. “Will you join me?”

“No?” The boy breathed out the word like it was a question. It physically sounded like defeat. Like compliance. Zarkon chuckled.

“Are you certain? I’d hate to have to hurt Champion…”

At that Haggar altered Matt’s delusion again. The small boy jumped, eyes wide with panic as his ears were assaulted with pained yells only he could hear. His breathing became ragged, and he frantically fought against his bonds, eye’s never leaving the nonexistent image of his friend’s torment. “Let him go! Please! No! Don’t hurt him! Stop!”

Zarkon raised a palm to stop Haggar, and grinned salaciously “You will become a tool for the Galran empire, and you will do whatever is asked of you.”

“Please,” Matt’s voice was a strained whisper, “Please, I-I can’t do this anymore. Please, just kill me. I don't want to. Please.”

“Your answer?” Zarkon crossed his arms, face a hungry expression. He didn’t need the Earthling's assent, he could just as easily make it comply. But the emperor took a sadistic pleasure in getting his subjects there, watching the inner turmoil, the pain, splayed across their faces. Forcing them to make the treacherous decision on their own. That was _oh_ so entertaining.

The Earthling turned it's face away from Zarkon, but nodded, as if it were ashamed of its choice. Zarkon grinned and gestured for the metal sentry behind Matt to come forward. 

While Zarkon knew he had the small boy’s compliance, the Earthling already exceeded their expectations once. They’d lost one significant investment that night, Champion, among the other prisoner’s, all thanks to this human. Zarkon was not one to be taken by surprise twice, and allowing the boy to think freely would be too much of a risk.

The guard gripped the Earthling’s cheeks roughly, forcing its mouth open and pouring in the prepared elixir.

The Earthling recoiled and sputtered, confusion flitted across its face before its eyes became hooded and its head lolled forward. He went boneless, and a shuddering, whining gasp spilled past his lips.

*Whatsssat?" The human laboriously lifted its head to peak at Zarkon, and it rolled from one shoulder to the other sluggishly. The human fought to keep it's eyes open, but it was all for naught.

Zarkon got what he wanted, he always did. 

“Stand." He commanded.

The Earthling eyes dipped shut, and when they reopened the fight was long gone. "Matt" was long gone.

It stood. Dead, hazy eyes stared back at Zarkon, ready for the the next order.

"Vreppit sa, my pawn,” Zarkon grinned at his new weapon. 

"Vreppit sa, master,” it droned back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was longer because I just didn't know where to cut it. Who needs uniform chapter lengths tho, ammiiryte?
> 
> Also, I have a head cannon that Matt knows Latin because he wanted to be able to understand binomial nomenclature, and Katie totally made fun of him because who learns a dead language just so they could talk about plants EXTRA nerdy. When the prisoners taught each other words in their native languages, Matt used Latin and it slips into his normal speech now.
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much! Let me know what you think! Have a great day!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt is under Zarcon's control

“You are a heathen, Takashi. A godless barbarian! Your evil knows no bounds!”

Shiro was somewhere between sighing and chuckling as he watched Matt pace back and forth in front of the park bench. The smaller boy was practically flailing now, and his volume was drawing the attention of fashionable joggers and parents with toddlers on leashes.

“It’s SherbEt Matt, not SherbERt. There isn’t a second R. Just because you don't like it doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Matt stopped his frantic pacing to gape at Shiro incredulously. He flung his arms in the air and scoffed,“You’re incorrigible Shiro! You should know better by now. The English language doesn't make sense! Sometimes there are letters in the word don't make sounds, like the ‘p’ in ‘pterodactyl,’ and sometimes there aren't letters in the word but they make a guest appearance in the pronunciation, like the second ‘r’ in ‘sherbet!’ I’m not even pursuing a degree in English and I know that’s a thing!”

A guffaw exploded from Shiro. It’s a full belly type of laughter that makes people stop and take notice, Matt included. Little tears are squeezing out of his closed eyes and he’s having trouble catching his breath. This halted Matt’s tirade, and he couldn’t help but laugh in return.

“Hey, what’s so funny Takashi? Huh?” Shiro just barely managed to get his breathing under control.

“That is not a thing Matt! That was not a rule in the English language _at all._ I mean the pterodactyl one was, but _no_ words just have added sounds! You are literally making it up, so don't even ‘I’m not even an English major and I know’ me!”

A still grinning Matt plopped down beside his friend and swung an arm over his shoulder before shooting him a leveling glance. 

“Listen buddy, you're not going to win this one. You know it, I know it. So, how about we meet halfway and both pronounce it ‘Shibirt’ when we get our cones. We’ll both be wrong, and the ice-cream barista will think we're hilarious.” 

“Deal. Before we go though I still have to give you your surprise, remember? Close your eyes while I get it out, I don't want you ruining it.”

“Uhhg, yes motherrr,” Matt kicked back, draped a thin arm over his face, and he closed his eyes.

 

_Matt blinks his eyes open, but Shiro is gone. He’s in a dark cell, the only light is coming from a small slot in the door._

_“Shiro?” He calls out into the darkness, and his voice rasps with disuse. Matt coughs, eyebrows stitching together. Whats going on? Where is he? “Shiro?!”_

_His heart rate is picking up, a freight train of panic that started slow but is now barreling through him, forcing the air from his lungs and making him tremble. Matt slams his hands over his eyes to block out the image of the cell._

_“Whats going on?” He yells to no one in particular._

 

“Hey,” firm hands grabbed Matt’s wrists and pulled them away from his face. Matt opened an eye and was instantly relieved to see Shiro’s concerned face peering back at him. “They’re gone Matt it’s okay. Are you hurt?”

Matt hadn’t notice the aching in his head until Shiro mentioned pain. What is going on? One moment he was at a park, the next a cell, and now…? He took in his surroundings only to realize he was back at the Garrison, resting against the lockers. Not in the park and not in the cell.

“Where am I? What’s going on Shiro?”

Matt was met with an even more concerned expression as Shiro’s mouth became a taught line. 

“Matt you’re not okay. You can’t keep letting them do this to you. I am getting a professor.”

“No!” Okay, he understood! The bump, the confusion. He just hit his head! Absolutely logical. This had happened before, Randy’s blond goon had a penchant for head shots, no big deal. “I’ll be fine, I think I just hit my head! It’ll take more than that to take down this stallion.” Matt flexed as he make a motion to stand.

Oh boy. He wasn't ready to stand. His vision spun, pulling the Earth from beneath him as an increasingly worried Shiro reached out to hold him up.

“Matt!” Shiro barked as the boy’s vision turned black.

 

_He blinks a few times and the picture gets worse before it gets better. But, when it gets better, he’s not staring at Shiro, but at a small…creature. That’s the best word he could use to describe it. It’s small, and delicate, and completely alien looking. The creature is trembling so heavily Matt can see the tremors from across the arena._

_Arena?_

_The full picture comes into view and Matt takes notice of all the creatures in the arena._

_No. That isn’t accurate._

_All their bodies._

_Tens of bodies litter the sandy floor, each suffering from what looks like serious electrical burns. He’d gotten a few before tinkering in the garage, but never to this extent._

_Matt gags. They’re everywhere._

_Without notice, a buzzer sounds and his body moves of its own accord. It’s streaking towards the trembling mess in front of him with athletic prowess Matt didn’t think he possessed._

_Matt can’t do anything but watch as a horrified bystander as his own hands, metal hands, reach out and release a shock so powerful into the small body that it was sent reeling. Matt’s trying to scream, but his mouth isn’t participating. He’s trying to run, to cry, to stop; but his body’s only response is to calmly walk back to its starting position, turning to face a new trembling creature._

_It takes every ounce of his willpower to shut his eyes as his body lurches forward once more._

 

“Matt, wake up. I think you're having a nightmare and I can’t sleep with you kicking me in the back.” Shiro’s deep morning voice sounded right above Matt’s face, making him jump. It was incredibly dark, and Matt could only see the lining of Shiro’s face peering down at him because it was so dang close. The smaller boy was covered in a cold sweat and tangled in his blankets. 

“Oh my gosh, Shiro,” his voice cracked “it was just a nightmare? Holy hell, that was the worst nightmare I’ve ever had! It felt so real Shiro, I could have sworn!”

Matt felt Shiro’s arms wrap around him. The older boy grounded him, arms warm and firm. Matt could feel his frantic breathing slow as the tension melted away. Okay, it was just a dream. All of it was just some weird, multifaceted, realistic dream. He blatantly ignored the nagging part of his brain that told him it wasn't a dream.

“Wait, how am I kicking you, are-why are we in the same bed?” 

A light clicked on, illuminating Matt’s tiny ‘room’ aboard the Kerberos ship. The floor is just about big enough for two bed rolls, and the boys had theirs lined up right next to each other. Oh ya he remembered this. Matt’s personal items must be elsewhere on the ship, because their bedrolls line the walls. With the new light, Matt found himself taking note of how close he is to a now furiously blushing Shiro. Matt draws back, he’s never seen Shiro look so… nervous?

“I uhh brought my bed roll from my room because you said our ‘Kerberos sleepover experience won't count if I don't literally sleep over.’ I told you your space is cramped, but you said it was fine…. You really don't remember? Is it still okay? I can go back to my room, yno if you want.” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck in that nervous way Shiro does, and looked anywhere but at Matt. Matt had no idea why Shiro was a rambling, nervous mess, but found his face heating up in response. 

“Uh, no it's-it's okay. Let’s just go back to sleep.” Matt clicked the lights off and took note of how close they both were. He could feel Shiro’s broad back pressing into his own and that small contact made his entire body feel like it was a furnace. He slammed his eyes shut and focused on calming his breathing. What the heck?

 

_The first thing Matt notices is the pronounced absence of the warmth he was just feeling, and he knows he is back to the darker place. He wakes up to a tap on his arm from a woman in a hood. She looks incredibly familiar, and dull memories of a ship and fighting ebb and flow at the edges of Matt’s mind._

_“It’s time to drink, small one.” She holds out a cup filled with an unknown liquid that had Matt backing himself against the wall._

_“Absolutely not.” More memories are spilling in now. Blood and carnage filling his mind to the brink, and he’s painfully wracking his hands through his hair to get a grip on reality. Ironically, he feels more lucid now than he has in a while. He is remembering. It’s been weeks under this control and now he’s remembering everything. Matt turns to retch but there’s nothing in his stomach._

_“Haggar. No. I won't do it anymore.” He really wanted that to sound forceful, but it comes out as a whining plea. That cup, the liquid, it made him do it. Made him obedient._

_She sighs impatiently and turns to the door, her eyes glow as a bound and badly beaten Shiro is pulled into the room. He looks just as vulnerable as the last Shiro from Matt’s memories did, but now his eyes are pleading with the smaller boy, and he all but falls apart._

_“Please Matt, just do what they say. Please. For me Matt. I need you to drink it for me, or they’ll keep hurting me Matt.” A sob escapes Matt’s lips as he looks at his friend._

_He can’t let them hurt Shiro._

_His face is a distraught grimace as he accepts the cup. The drink is the consistency of warm honey, and sticks to his throat in much the same way. The taste was unlike anything he’d tried before. Similar to what you imagine perfume would taste like if it held flavor the way it does scent._

_“Sleep.”_

_His lids immediately droop, and Haggar starts pulling out medical instruments for her own experimentation. Shiro tapers out of existence like a mirage of water for a dehydrated man in the desert, and Matt tries to keep his thoughts intact as he slips into the next memory. With each minute his thoughts burn away like parchment, and he feels numb and compliant once again. Time turned fragile, folding over itself and mixing out of order. Past? Present? He’s not…sure? He closes his eyes._

 

“Matt!!” He turned to the voice just in time to see Katie whip a dodgeball at his face. It made contact with a loud thud, and Matt was sent flailing into the grass.

 

_He opens his eyes and he's on the floor of the arena. Above him is a creature with a sword pointed at his neck. He closes his eyes, and braces himself for impact._

 

“Oh wow that was a rough one. You doing okay, sport?” Samuel Holt stared down at Matt with a concerned, fatherly expression. Katie could be heard cackling a few feet away, and Matt forced himself onto his elbows so he could glare at her.

“You asshat, that hurt!” This only made her laugh harder. “Mom! Yell at her, she only listens to you!”

Matt turned to face his mother, but the sun resting behind her is so blazingly bright his eyes shut against it.

 

_Matt’s hands rest on the blade above his throat. The electricity flowing from the blade to the creature’s quaking body creates a momentary flash of brilliant light that leaves Matt seeing stars._

_He’s having trouble keeping up as strings of memories and reality oscillate, tumbling through his mind. Matt wheezes as he blinks the spots furiously from his eyes._

 

“Katie, try not to kill your brother. We need him to carry on the Holt namesake.” Colleen Holt’s voice held no venom as she jokingly chided Katie. The family laughed.

Every time Matt blinked a gruesome picture of reality was imprinted on his eyelids. 

Blink.

 

_He’s sending a rebel leader into convulsions._

 

Blink.

 

_He’s standing beside Zarkon at a war counsel._

 

Blink.

 

_He’s taking a bag of scaultrite from an alien in red._

 

Blink.

Matt stopped blinking, and instead turned his attention back to the little shit formally known as Katie walking towards the abandoned red ball.

“Ew, don’t look at me like that. What are you doing?” Katie stared at her wide-eyed, unblinking brother like he’d grown a third arm.

“Oh, I’m just trying to burn your face into my memories Katie so when I murder you I don't forget what you look like. You heard mom, they only need me alive.” His eyes stung, burned from being open too long. Matt sighed.

Blink.

 

_He’s walking to his cell._

 

Blink.

Matt smiled back at a devious little gremlin. She responds with a smirk, smashing the recently retrieved red dodgeball between her palms. “I’m sorry, who’s killing who?”

As she wound her arm back, Matt could hear his mom chuckle and his dad frantically try to get Katie to stop. He smiled and braced himself. God, he really missed them. 

Seconds later, the ball smashes into his face with a fury.

 

_Matt is slammed into the wall of his cell. He stares in confusion at the dust settling in front of him. What the hell?_

_Light pours in through a gaping hole in the wall that used to hold only a small slot. Matt violently coughs into his sleeve, dust filling his lungs as two figures dash into the room and grab him by the arms._

_“What the hell? Let me go.” He slurs as he weakly struggles against both the people holding him and the drugs in his system. The figures quickly slide off their masks, revealing a grinning white face with four green eyes and a nervous looking fuzzy mug before sliding the masks back in place._

_“Rin? Sass?” Matt’s heart lodges in his throat as he starts running along side his friends, eyelids struggling to stay open. “You came back?”_

_“I told you we wouldn't forget you, brother. Now, I know they’ve got you on the gold elixir so here’s your command, ‘Escape with us Matt.’”_

_With that command, Matt’s eyes slip shut and his body takes over for a final time._

 

“Okay open.”

Matt opened his eyes to find himself back on the park bench with Shiro. He smiled before looking at the gift in Shiro’s hand, a…black T-Shirt? Matt glanced up at Shiro skeptically only to see the older boy was donning his own black T-Shirt. On the front there was a large white arrow pointing to Shiro’s left and white block letters that read,“I’m the Iron Man to his J.A.R.V.I.S.”

“No. Way.” Matt furiously untangled the T-shirt in his hands to read the front.

“I was in Hot Topic with Keith, of all places, and I saw these hanging along the wall and thought about our Iron Man suit from sophomore year!” Shiro was beaming so bright Matt swears had to squint to take it in.

“Oh my gosh, Shiro!” He squealed, holding up his own shirt to reveal a similar arrow and a text that read “I’m the J.A.R.V.I.S. to his Iron Man.” 

“I thought it might be too embarrassing, but then I imagined your face and I had to buy them. I was going to buy us laser pointers too, but…” He held up his fist and shot a purple laser from a gumball machine ring straight into Matt’s eyes,“I still have mine!”

Shiro was laughing now and Matt followed suit, clumsily slipping the shirt over his head. It fit like it was made to be worn by Matt.

“Oh my gosh, this was single handedly the greatest gift I have ever received Shiro! My crops are flourishing, my skin is clear!” His laugher escalated to wheezing, and he found solace in the fact that Shiro wasn’t fairing much better. He stood up and tugged on the taller boy’s hand.

“Okay. Come on, we need to go get ‘shibirt' _now_ and show off these sick friendship T’s. Ellie’s Ice Cream won't know what hit ‘um!”

The two were walking down the sidewalk, side by side in matching shirts. Shiro hadn’t pulled his hand from Matt’s yet, and Matt happily tugged him along. Dully, he recognized this may be the last time he sees his friend. 

He thought about the badly bruised Shiro Haggar has under her thumb. He thought about how he is leaving him behind selfishly right now as his body escapes with Rin. Matt looked back to his interlocked hand and reveled in the contact. Shiro was talking about something interesting he read online with eyes lit from within, and Matt takes a second to soak in the image hungrily, savoring it.

They ordered their “shibirt” and the ice-cream barista looked at them like they were the most obnoxious people on the planet. Heck, they might have been. 

The two boys were indulging in their sherbet and passionately discussing which Will Smith movie was the best when Matt felt the beginnings of a sneeze build up. He had known something like this would be coming, but he still couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He wanted more time. He wasn't ready to leave yet, to face reality. 

He turned once more to the happy Shiro of his memories and his face fell into a bittersweet smile.

“I’ll save you, Takashi. I promise.” 

And with that, his eyes were forced shut with the pressure of the sneeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Iron Man suit part was a reference to a memory mentioned chapter 3 when they tried to build a suit but settled for laser pointers. 
> 
> Anyways! I hope you liked it and it was't confusing! Thank you for reading (:  
> Lemmmme know what ya think! 
> 
> PS next CH is Shiro's POV so we'll start seeing more of the Voltron gang, WOOO


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After defeating Zarkon, Shiro finds himself transported by Black to an unknown planet.

“This is our last chance! Let’s finish this!” Shiro was positioned at the helm of the black lion, sitting at attention as Voltron finally faced Zarkon for what they hoped would be the last time. The link between the paladins crowded in his mind, a warm buzz of excitement everyone was feeling. His lion roared, her anticipation palpable as they all pushed Voltron forward. This was it!

This was the moment they were going to finally _defeat_ Zarkon. 

Determined shouts filled the com link as they barreled towards Zarkon’s mech suit. The shouts mixed, creating a cacophony of conviction and willpower, and Shiro couldn't distinguish his own voice from the others’ as Voltron lodged its sword into the abdomen of Zarkon’s suit. 

More. It wasn’t enough!

Zarkon reached toward the head of Voltron, large hands gripping the lion he once called his own. The emperor used the one weapon he knew Haggar had perfected, and volts of energy ripped through Black’s cockpit. The energy traveled in waves through Voltron, and Shiro could feel each member’s distress making his own so much worse. 

It was as if fire, molten and hot, coursed through their veins. Shiro yelled as he fought to maintain control despite the pain.

Black edged into his mind, filled with concern. If someone asked Shiro to describe her ‘voice,’ he would say she always felt like wind to him. A tornado, strong and powerful, in battle, and a cool breeze of encouragement when he needed it most.

Right now she was a whispered and anxious gust, nudging him away from the fight and telling him to draw back. 

The thing about wind, though, is that it only fans the flame.

_This_ was their chance, and there was no way Shiro was backing down. Black acquiesced but growled her displeasure as Shiro felt a pull at their connection to look down. She was telling him what to do. Good girl. 

The bayard port blinked, and without hesitation Shiro slid his newly acquired bayard in and spun. The lions roared in his mind, a whirlwind of support, praise, protection, and strength. 

Voltron’s sword became engulfed in flame, and each member of Voltron knew exactly what they needed to do. _This_ was it! _This_ is what they’d been waiting for. The paladin’s shouts filled his ears and his mind once more as they sped towards Zarkon with the flaming weapon. 

Black was back again, whining for him to turn back as Voltron slammed into Zarkon with its weapon. It plunged deep, and, with a second push, even deeper, forcing Zarkon’s mech suit apart at the seams. 

Relief overwhelmed Shiro as he watched the beginnings of an explosion blossom from the hole they created in Zarkon’s suit. There may have been a little pride in there as well, but who could blame him? 

They’d done it!

Shiro squinted against the bright light as Zarkon’s suit ended as dramatically as it began. He closed his eyes, and smiled, relaxing enough to finally listen to Black’s protests. He reached out to understand, danger? Damage? Safety? Go? There were no definitive words, just feelings and intangible ideas.

He tried to decipher the concepts she threw at him, but far too quickly the universe they inhabited was illuminated with white hot light, and Shiro was rocked violently forward by the explosion.

 

———

 

Shiro woke up sweaty and laying on a bed of leaves. 

The last thing he remembered was fighting Zarkon, and, to the best of his knowledge, winning. He didn’t remember blacking out, nor did he remember how he got _here._

Wherever _here_ was.

Above him rested a canopy of trees silhouetted in the setting, evening sun. The sky itself was painted greens and purples, a sunset unlike any on Earth. For a moment, he felt peaceful, sitting and looking up at the shifting sky surrounded by the quiet sounds of the forest.

The next moment he felt hot though. Hot, and sweaty, and sticky, and warm. 

He sat up with a groan and drearily rubbed his eyes. It had to be over a hundred degrees, easily. And were that not enough, it was a humid heat. Each inhale felt more akin to eating than breathing, the thick air a solid settling in his lungs. 

Shiro sighed and wracked his brain for any hints as to where he was and how he got here. No luck. One moment he was in Black, the next moment he was waking up here, covered in sweat and lionless. 

Salt dripped from his forehead into his mouth and he groaned loudly. He couldn’t think straight in this heat.

“Hey guys, can you hear me?” The com responded with static. Fantastic.

His brain pounded against his forehead as he stood and started shucking the armor from his body. Each piece removed brought a waft of fresh air and relief to his black body suit. He piled the armor neatly beside a tree, but opted to keep his helmet on in case the coms started functioning. With that, Shiro began exploring. He needed to find other people or water and shelter. A low grumble in his stomach chimed in. Maybe food too. 

He trudged through the forest without much luck. The unfamiliar terrain had him walking in circles, and the sun hardly seemed to shift in the sky making it impossible to tell how much time passed. However long it was, the exercise was exhausting and he needed a break. 

Shiro slumped against a tree and swallowed mouthfuls of air before sinking to the floor and splaying his legs out. His sore body protested the whole way down. God. His eyes slipped shut and he let his head fall back against the tree. 

Shiro liked to try and stay positive, but this really sucked.

A low, mechanical rumble in the distance brought Shiro back from his hazy relaxation. He sat up and listened as it drew closer. He carefully moved to crouch behind a nearby bush for coverage when he recognized the sound was getting louder. 

From his hiding spot, the boy watched as a hovercraft resembling a four-wheeler came into view. It floated several feet in the air and gracefully maneuvering through the trees, dipping and tilting with ease. It lowered to the ground in the small clearing in front of Shiro, and his adrenaline spiked as he recognized a single rider on the machine. The rider clicked the craft off and dismounted, swinging a leg over and hopping to the floor with as much grace as their driving. 

Shiro leaned forward and strained to hear the rider’s voice, muffled behind their tinted black helmet, as they spoke to someone through a com link.

“Yeah, no, I’m where the signal was tripped but I’m not _seeing_ anything my dude.” They sighed “No. I _did_ look… I looked! Listen, I think you're being paranoid. It's probably a bleslion sniffing around the monitors again.” 

Monitors? Dang it. Shiro internally cursed himself. He hadn't even thought to look for something like that. He should have been more careful, and now he’d have to stay in his hiding spot until the stranger left or proved they wouldn’t try and attack him.

He took a second to look at the owner of the bike as they paced the clearing and argued with whoever was on the com. If he had to take a guess, he’d say the stranger was male. He was shorter than Shiro, but not by much. He had a swimmer's build, all lean muscle, and the clothes he wore hung loosely over his defined shoulders. Shiro jealously observed how not sweaty the man was, and wished he too was wearing only a tank top, gloves, helmet, and what looked like harem pants. The guy wasn’t even wearing shoes, and Shiro couldn’t help but imagine how airy that outfit must feel. God, he was practically salivating.

As if on cue, sweat trickled into his eyes, making them sting.

Shiro would have groaned if he could.

He stayed hidden though, and did the only thing he could do: take inventory of the stranger. He felt kind of guilty watching someone who was so unaware of his presence, but, rationally, if he moved he’d be found so there was no helping it. He looked for useful clues that might indicate whether or not the stranger would be a friend or foe. 

This wasn’t really his talent. He was struggling. What could be considered important?

His clothing _may_ have been Galran based on the color scheme? The dark hues, blacks and purples, stood at a striking contrast to the rider’s milk like complexion, riddled with scars. Shiro caught himself wondering how the stranger acquired all those scars marring the length of his arms. Battle? He steeled himself. He’d be ready if he had to fight. Reluctant, but ready.

The rider stretched upwards and his shirt rode up, revealing a small stretch of pale, defined stomach that made Shiro’s mouth suddenly unbearable dry. He swallowed. 

Nope. Nope. No way, What the hell Shiro, get a hold of yourself. This guy might be the enemy. Focus. 

The stranger crouched to the ground and hummed his assent to the voice in his helmet. Shiro could barely hear the rider through the dark glass, but he could tell the figure was bored. He ran his fingers idly through the sand, inspecting it with little interest. 

Suddenly, the stranger shot up, making Shiro jump before he headed towards his vehicle,“Hey, I gotta go. Yeah, I just found a shoe print. Nah, don’t send anyone, I’ll be fine. Yeah, Vale.”

The stranger pulled a long staff from his vehicle and Shiro’s pulse sped up. So this guy _was_ an enemy, and a violent one at that. Shiro crouched lower. He was going to strike first and take the guy by surprise, ending the fight before it even began. He watched as the lissom figure inspected his shoe prints before walking towards the foliage he was currently hiding behind. 

Shiro held his breath and waited. “Patience yields virtue.” 

As the stranger drew near, Shiro coiled back and burst from the leaves only moments before the smaller boy reached the bush, taking the guy by surprise as he barreled into him and eliciting a frightened yelp. The black rider lost his balance and tumbled backward. Shiro thought this would be his opportunity to take the upper hand, but, just as quickly as his back hit the floor, the rider was rolling into a backwards somersault and landing on his feet, knees bent and weapon raised.

He effortlessly spun the staff a few times and it whizzed through the air. It was an act of cocky intimidation that was, unfortunately, working on Shiro. This guy obviously had some skill, and Shiro was still exhausted. He was way too fatigued to rely solely on his Galran arm, so he needed to get the weapon out of the rider’s hands if he was going to have a chance at winning. 

Well, if the guy was cocky.

“What, not good enough to fight an unarmed guy without a weapon?” He challenged his opponent.

The figure seemed to contemplate for a second before slamming his staff upright into the dirt, and raising a hand, palm upward, to beckon Shiro in a classic karate movie fashion.

“Bring it on.” His muffled voice resounded through the clearing and set Shiro off. He sprinted towards the figure and threw his fist forward in a jab. The rider easily dodged the attack, turning and gripping Shiro’s wrist. He pulled, using Shiro’s momentum against him and sending the taller boy into a tree. Shiro’s helmet hit it with a thud. He grunted and quickly turned to face his opponent, not giving him another chance to attack. 

“Hoo wee! Lucky I put my staff down if that's the best you can do.” He was mocking Shiro, acting out theatrical karate poses as he backed away. It was annoying.

The rider snickered as Shiro pushed off the tree quickly, using the force to give him speed as he descended upon the figure once more. The two fought fiercely, exchanging blows like practiced professionals, and almost every hit Shiro threw was countered. The rider skillfully used joint locks and redirection, attempting to pin Shiro who’s offensive maneuvers consisted mostly of punches and kicks. 

Their styles were completely different, and yet a perfect match for each other, bringing them to a stalemate. Shiro would get a few hits in only to narrowly avoid being pinned seconds later. He already battled Zarkon that day, and the sweltering heat of this hellish planet was really getting to him as the battle wore on. He could feel the fatigue making him sluggish. 

No good, he needed to act now.

His attention focused into a fine point and he started what he hoped would be his final move. Shiro came in with a body hook and watched as the rider’s feet shifted to avoid and counter the attack. He planned for this and abandoned his punch, kicking out at the figure’s thigh as it shifted its footwork instead, and making it lose balance. 

The rider fell, his helmet cracking into the ground heavily, forcing a gasp from his mouth. Shiro pounced, attempting to pin the man to the floor, but missing narrowly as he rolled out of his grasp and nimbly back onto his feet again. The figure turned to sprint away and Shiro let out a frustrated groan as he ran to follow. He was _exhausted._

The figure ran back to his staff and reared on Shiro, growling a warning as he did. He clearly wanted the fight to be over just as much as Shiro did. 

But Shiro wanted it more.

He hadn’t planned to rely on his arm. It was really draining, and he _already_ felt like he was running on empty. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Shiro felt the metal go warm and hum. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the familiar dull purple glow. Ahead of him, the figure froze as it looked at Shiro’s glowing hand peeking out from beneath his body suit. It was just a second of hesitation, but it was all Shiro needed. He ran forward again and shouldered into the dumbstruck rider, sending him back and crashing to the floor with a grunt, his weapon abandoned. Shiro slammed his foot down on the stranger’s chest, pinning him to the floor.

“Where am I? Where’s my lion and the other paladins? Who are you, and how did you bring me here?” His voice demanded answers and he put pressure on his foot in an empty threat, forcing air from the stranger’s chest. 

The figure was silent and unmoving. He lay limply, the tinted glass kept his expressions a mystery to Shiro, “Talk. I asked you some que-“

His words were cut off when the figure unexpectedly flexed his stomach and curled up the waist. His legs hooked around Shiro's thigh and he pushed back quickly. Shiro let out an embarrassing yelp as he was thrown to the floor. He hit the ground with a thud, breath stolen, and moments later the rider was directly above him. He pinned Shiro’s lower half first, positioning himself just above Shiro’s waste and hooking his ankles around Shiro’s legs. Before he could react, the stranger was pulling the helmet off of Shiro’s head, throwing it to the side, and gripping his wrists, forcing them to the ground.

Shiro struggled for a moment, but the muscular body above him had him completely pinned. He collapsed under the weight of his loss. God he was sweaty. He looked up to the black reflective glass and saw his own face mirrored back at him. He sighed in defeat, “Please, can you tell me what’s going on?”

The figure was silent, inches from his face, just looking at him. Shiro felt scrutinized by that unseen eye, and shifted under the stranger’s weight. 

 

“Takashi?” he could have sworn he heard the stranger whisper his name, but the sound was so quiet and so _hopeful,_ Shiro was certain he’d imagined it. 

Just as quickly as he doubted what he heard, he was being enveloped in a fierce hug. The stranger gripped him like a life vest, his legs entwined with Shiro’s as if someone would try to steal the taller man away from him at any moment. 

Shiro was, in two words, incredibly uncomfortable. He shifted and coughed awkwardly.

“Uhm… It’ll be okay.” Shiro tried to sooth the body gripped to him with careful pats on the back only to have it pull back abruptly. The figure lifted its hands and tugged the helmet from his head. Long, shaggy brown locks tumbled from the helmet, framing a familiar smiling face. 

“It’s me Shiro, Matt. I-You escaped.” Matt’s voice cracked as he spoke, and before he could finish he was wrapped in Shiro’s arms. This time, the fierce hug was mutual. Both boy’s bodies were wracked with elated laughter as they gripped onto each other. They tried to talk, ask questions, but every word came out a jumbled mess between gasps and muffled by the shoulders they spoke into.

It’s hard to say how long they sat there like that, just holding each other under the setting sun, but a beeping from Matt’s helmet had him untangling himself from Shiro with an apologetic smile and slipping the opaque helmet back on.

“Hellooo?” he paused as he listened to his comrade and then laughed, “You were nervous? Adorable. Yes. Yes I found our intruder.” Matt turned back to Shiro who was hoisting himself off the ground, and allowed himself to smile. “You won't believe who it is, Sass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it comes folks, the moment you've all been waiting for. Now the reeaall story begins. lol 
> 
> Thank you for reading and thanks to everyone with feedback! I looove it and I am _always_ happy for more. (; are winky faces always skeevie? Maybe ignore the winky face.
> 
> Anyways, I'm not sure when the next chapter will be ready because I'm leaving for a 4th of July camping trip today and I have a convention next weekend. I will do my darndest though! 
> 
> Thanks again!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Matt catch up a bit.

Shiro sat perched on the seat behind Matt, arms wrapped around the latter’s stomach as they twisted and dipped through the trees on their way to the rebel camp. The entire time the younger boy kept one hand firmly grasped around the other’s wrist. 

It was maybe a little unrealistic… _ok_ completely unrealistic, Matt knew that, but he was deathly afraid that the second he let go of Shiro the boy would stop being tangible. He’d disappear, and Matt would realize this was all some stress induced daydream. Granted, he hadn’t hallucinated since they cleansed Zarkon’s drugs out of his system months ago, but he worried that maybe the increase in missions or lack of sleep was getting to him. 

Matt spent every day since his rescue trying to persuade the other rebels to break onto Zarkon’s ship and free Shiro too.

Of course, they never agreed.

“Matt, we all have family and friends under Zarkon’s control. The only way to free them all is to beat Zarkon, and we’ll never do that if we try and rescue each person individually.” Some part of him knew this was completely logical, but that didn’t make him any more on board with the excuse. 

Despite that, here Shiro _seemingly_ was, escaped, unhurt, and gripping around Matt’s abdomen for dear life as the boy recklessly sped through the trees. Giddy giggles bubbled out of him every time Shiro shifted to hold on tighter, and his entire body bounced with excitement. Good god, Matt didn't even know someone could be this happy, so could anyone blame him for not wanting to risk it?

As they drew near the edge of the encampment, Matt yelled “Hold on” back to Shiro before pulling the steering wheel down and forcing the craft into an abrupt upward climb towards his personal parking platform.

Shiro must have been surprised because a second after Matt pulled the machine up, he was met with a horrified gasp and a tightening grip that squeezed the air from his lungs. Matt couldn’t help but laugh. Shiro? Nervous? On a _hovercraft?_

If he was tempted to keep driving just to mess with him.

A tick later, the vehicle leveled out over Matt’s platform before the engine cut and it melted to the ground. He looked back at Shiro, still tightly gripping his shirt, and if a heart could stutter his would have. 

Shiro was still there. 

It wasn’t pretend, it wasn’t just some residual memory, it was really him. Every cell in Matt’s body screamed for him to wrap Shiro in another embrace, and he might have if that wasn’t literally the only thing they’d done so far. No, Matt needed to get him back to the camp and assess whether or not Shiro was _actually_ okay. 

“You can let go now, loser. The engine’s off.” The smile on his face mirrored the one in his voice, and Shiro’s grip loosened. The older boy pulled back to look at Matt, expression laced with serious concern.

“You don't always drive like that do you? I saw my life flash before my eyes Matt.” The smaller boy laughed again. Takashi Shirogane: as concerned about Matt’s safety as ever.

He dismounted and yanked off his helmet before extending a hand to Shiro whose legs looked a little on the wobbly side.

“If you aren’t risking your life, it’s like you’re not even flying. Now come on, let's get you a change of clothes and some food so we can catch up.”

Matt slid down the ladder with practiced ease and Shiro followed suit. Right before breaking through the foliage surrounding the camp, Matt advised him to stay close. 

It got pretty busy around this time, sunset. This outpost was a hive of activity, and there were a lot of different species lining there, some nocturnal some not. So, the times between day and night, sunrise and sunset, were the most busy. There would be people _everywhere,_ and Matt didn’t want to lose his friend in the crowd. Not after he just got him back, and especially not after thinking about how his comrades would react to meeting “Champion.” 

 

Shiro wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see on the other side of the foliage, but it absolutely wasn't this. In front of him rested a thriving popup city of tents and temporary homes beneath the thick dome of trees. The camp unfurled as a patchwork of different colors and textiles, no two tents looked the same, and some looked large enough to house occupants in the higher double digits. 

Hundred of aliens of diverse species milled throughout the tight streets talking, laughing, and arguing loudly. Some carried weapons, maps, foods; some walked and chatted lazily in slept in clothes. It looked more like a marketplace than a rebel camp, and it took Shiro a second to take it in before he realized Matt was already on the edge of the crowd waiting for him. The taller boy jogged to catch up, and thought better of shaking loose when Matt grabbed his hand before diving into the crowd. 

The two weaved through the throngs of people and Shiro took notice of how often Matt was greeted. They frequently had to stop as he exchanged brief but impassioned words about the progress on the “augmented noise disseminator” and the location of the next “spoliate.” 

It was weird seeing Matt like this, so comfortable and so depended upon. It was obvious Shiro’s friend was someone important to the revolution. He spoke with the friendly kind of confident tone that _cried_ leadership.

He was _so_ different.

Shiro was having trouble reconciling this calm man, completely at ease in this hectic environment, to the shy and spastic teen he knew from the Garrison. He felt out of place as he took in how _happy_ Matt seemed to be. Shiro’s friend had moved on, he was thriving. Matt didn’t even take the time to introduce him to anyone. If it weren't for the small connection of their hands, Shiro would feel completely left behind, and that was weird.

Eventually Matt herded Shiro through the door of a flimsy wooden shack at the heart of the compound before slamming it closed behind the two and quieting the noise of the camp. The shack was cramped and dusty. Dim light filtered in through a makeshift window in the wood above a work desk littered in papers and small electronics. Shiro backed himself up against a wooden dresser and noted that, other than those two pieces of furniture, the shack was empty.

Matt leaned against the door, eyes never leaving Shiro as his smile widened. “I am so sorry,” he started, a little breathless, “I’ll introduce you to everyone tomorrow, but you looked so tired and warm I just wanted to let you relax. Uhh, here.” He awkwardly edged past Shiro and rummaged through the dresser. The room was _not_ made for two people. “I probably have something in here that will be less uncomfortable than your dang under armor. Why do you even wear that? It seems unnecessary and hot? Wouldn’t like a T-shirt suffice as under armor just so you don't sweat through? Right? Unless of course it has another purpose, extra protection per chan- oh, shit. Sorry. I’m doing myself a heckin’ ramble. Here.” 

Matt thrust a ball of clothing at Shiro, “Somehow, frankly I didn’t think it possible, you’ve gotten even _more_ muscular than before, you behemoth.” a pout formed on his lips “And here I was thinking I’d impress you with my metamorphosis, but noooo had to one up me didn’t you Shiro… Anyways, we’ll see. I usually just sleep in that shirt so it’s a little bit bigger, but not by much.” Matt’s face contorted and his arms waved thoughtlessly in the air as he explained his thoughts to Shiro. 

The action was so incredibly _Matt._

Shiro found himself chuckling at the younger man. He was so worried about what exactly? That Matt wouldn’t be himself anymore? Matt was still goofy and happy, and, if anything, it looked like the work camp just helped him find others that recognized his worth. He was better than okay.

“What are you laughing at Shiro!? Hmm?” Matt leaned forward, face serious. “Is it my tiny body? Because let us not forget that this tiny body just whooped your massive one mere moments ago.” He wagged a finger in Shiro’s direction.

“Matt! No!” Shiro was laughed harder, “I’m just surprised by how _familiar_ this is. I can’t believe I’m here, and it’s like nothing’s changed.” He met Matt’s eyes and could tell the other boy was thinking the same by the smile that spread across his face. It’s been, what? Two years since they were on Earth hanging out like this? And within minutes they were back into their usual rhythm. It was amazing.

They stood there just looking at each other, Matt leaning against the desk with his arms crossed and Shiro standing against the dresser with the clothes in his hands. It was unbelievable how lucky they were to find each other like this. Neither knew how it happened, but does one look a gift horse in the mouth? No.

There was a pounding knock on the door that made both boys jump followed by someone yelling Matt’s name through the window.

“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable, please leave a message after the beep” Matt called over his shoulder, smile widening and eyes never leaving Shiro. “Beeeep.”

 

“Matt, so help me Vluel, I will knock your house to the ground if you don't come out here _right now_ and give a full report!” The voice called back.

The smaller boy cursed under his breath and pointedly told Shiro to try on the clothes before edging his way through the door.

Shiro smiled at the closed door before doing as he was told. The pants were fine, loose and airy like Matt’s. 

The problem was the shirt. 

The t-shirt was _tight._ Mostly around his broad shoulders, but it definitely was a bit short too. He was trying to escape from his cloth confides when Matt re-opened the door, food and water in hand.

 

“Good lord, Shirogane… How?” Matt chuckled as he took in the sight of Shiro, stuck with his arms above his head as he tried to free his shoulders from the obviously too tight shirt. He was very muscular and his chest was laced in scars of all shapes and sizes. They served as very clear reminders of the fights he'd won in the gladiator arena. Matt found himself wincing.

Shiro couldn’t see with the shirt above his head as it was, but stopped struggling at the sound of Matt’s voice and awkwardly cleared his throat.

“I’m not stuck.” He assured the younger boy.

“Oh, of course not. The thought never crossed my mind.” Matt swallowed at the sight of a large scar on Shiro’s side. His heart stopped and then sped up as his eyes traced the gnarled skin. It looked deadly. It looked recent.

_Zarkon probably gave him that. Because you left._

“I’ll go find you a bigger shirt Shiro,” He struggled to keep his voice even as he slipped from the room and pressed his back against the door. 

“Shiro is safe now. It’s okay.” He whispered to himself as he stood outside his rickety home. Matt used number five of the relaxation techniques he’d grown so skilled at and pushed off the door. He was getting better. The longer he stayed with the rebellion, the more in control he felt over his reactions. But there were still times like this when he felt the control slip, and he hoped Shiro wasn’t going to be a catalyst for more of them.

When he returned with one of Sassy’s shirts, he was significantly less panicked and Shiro had freed himself from the oppressive bond that was Matt’s pajama shirt. The older boy happily took the larger tunic and slipped it over his scarred frame, relieving them both. 

The sun outside dipped lower, casting shadows through the room, and Matt laid out two large bed rolls. He placed the food and drinks in the middle before looking up at Shiro.

“Sorry, we don’t have anywhere to house you on such short notice, but we should be able to find a place soon. For now you’re gonna have to spend time with me,” he smirked. “It’ll be like our KerberBros sleep over.”

Shiro joined him on the floor and took a swig of the water. It was much cooler on the ground, and both the airy clothing and chilled water were doing wonders for him. But with clarity came the nagging voice in his head reminding him he had responsibilities. As fantastic as finding Matt was, he needed to get back to Voltron.

“I’m sorry Matt but I can’t stay long. I need to find the other member’s of Voltron. We just fought Zarkon, and I need to get back to make sure everyone is okay.” His face lit up as he made a realization, “I forgot about Pidge! They’re going to be so excited I found you!”

There was a pause as Matt’s brain struggled to absorb all the new information. Voltron? He’d heard of it, but it wasn’t supposed to be strong enough to face the emperor? Shiro was going to leave so soon? He had a team? And who the hell is Pidge? He squeezed his face between his hands and willed his mind to understand. 

Nope. Useless.

“Sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about Shiro. Start from the top. What’s Voltron and its connection to you? Who’s Pidge, and why do they want to see me? … Ooh, real question, do _I_ want to see _Pidge_?” He raised his eyebrows and Shiro chuckled.

“Oh trust me, you do. Voltron is the universe’s last line of defense against Zarkon, and the paladins have been fighting since we got our lions. It’s basically a battleship, but that's not doing it justice.” He popped a fruit from the plate between them into his mouth before continuing, “The paladins are myself, my brother Keith, Garrison cadets Hunk and Lance, and Pidge. Pidge is your sister, Katie. She’s been loo-“ Shiro was cut off abruptly as Matt jumped to his feet.

“Wait, Wait, wait, wait, wait! My Katie? As in, Katie Holt is in space?! Who brought her to space?! She’s supposed to be safe on Earth right now with my mom… Is Katie safe?! WAIT! KATIE IS A PALADIN? MEANING SHE FIGHTS?! SHIRO!” Matt couldn’t stop himself from pacing. The familiar hot panic coiled in his stomach and he raked his hands through his hair. He needed to find Katie immediately. “UP! We’re getting in contact with Voltron right now!” 

Matt forced Shiro to his feet and pulled the older boy from the shack and into the tent next to his. The tent was much larger, but not much roomier as almost all of the floorspace was consumed by computers and worktables piled high with machine parts. Everything had a shoddy sense to it, as if each part was salvaged from some alien junkyard. As the boys pushed in, three identical aliens swiveled to look at them in unison. They were about 4 feet tall, stocky, and had what looked like oxygen masks connected to tanks that hovered beside them. Their wrinkled skin was a dark forest green, and their black eyes blinked blankly at the pair.

“Shiro, this is Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Guys, this is Shiro.” Matt lazily introduced them before sliding in front of a computer monitor. As he sat, the three looked back to their respective work and Matt turned to Shiro, “Before you ask, no, no one knows their real names. All you need to know is that they understand English, they are too proud to speak with anyone, they are always creepily together, and they _will_ steal any and all pairs of socks you leave in this room.” He leaned in and whispered “Also, they are very bitter about the rebellion being housed on a planet with an oxygen-rich atmosphere. They can’t breath, and if you remind them they will do nothing but glare at you for the rest of your life. So, don't ask them about the masks.”

Matt spun back to the computer as he let Shiro absorb everything he said. He began typing, mentally shuffling through the possible ways he could find the universe’s last hope when said last hope was likely staying off of any radars so’s not to attract the Galra. 

He hummed and swiveled back and forth. If it really was only a team of 5, Voltron was probably looking for Shiro. Maybe he could find a way to lead Voltron to them without attracting any Galran attention? 

If they have Katie, he could make a message incredibly difficult to decode and it should be fine. Yea, that would be perfect.

He smiled and got to work. As he typed, he spoke to Shiro who stood in the center of the tent looking like he was too nervous to touch anything. “Ok. Katie. Why would you pick _Katie_ for something like this? She’s hardly even a teenager.”

“It wasn’t anyone’s decision really, she was chosen by Voltron. It’s… hard to explain.” He sounded unsure

“Okay, okay.” Matt rubbed his eyes. Why was this so confusing? His gut twisted as he knew he’d have to ask about the one thing he wanted more than anything to just forget. “Let's start over. What happened to you? Once I left Zarkon’s ship I mean.”

“Uh, I actually don't really remember much past fighting Myzax. My memory is spotty.” Matt paused and looked at his friend. Shiro rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t look like he was lying.

He didn’t remember. Matt felt relief flood through him, actually forcing a laugh from him. Holy shit, Shiro doesn’t remember. That’s fantastic!

Matt thought it was weird that Shiro wasn’t mad at him for all the awful things Zarkon did to him to keep Matt in line. He thought it weird Shiro didn't judge Matt for all the awful things he did at Zarkon’s command. If they’d traded places, he wasn’t sure he could act as nice as Shiro had been, like nothing happened at all. But if Shiro didn't remember, if he had no idea what happened… it was literally like nothing happened. 

Matt smiled. Shiro didn’t know, and he was going to keep it that way. Spare them both from reality.

“How'd you get off the ship, do you remember? Was it Voltron that freed you?” He tentatively asked, trying not to force Shiro to remember anything his brain wanted to keep hidden. 

“No, we found Voltron after I went back to Earth. A member of the Blade of Mamora helped me escape. How about you though? What was the work camp like? Did you find your father?” Shiro smiled gently at his friend.

“What?” Matt stopped coding.

“Your dad? At the work camp?”

Myzax, right. He doesn’t remember much past Myzax. Matt faked a laugh.

“Ooh no, he was at a different camp.” Matt lied through his teeth and resumed typing, “It was fine, there wasn't too much manual labor, we got fed, and the other prisoners were fun.” That was only a half lie. 

It was silent for a second before Shiro spoke again, more gently this time, “You don’t have to answer if you don't want to, but I was wondering. What happened to your eyes?”

Matt’s mouth went dry. He didn't want to think about his eyes. Honestly, he’d rather forget he had anything connecting him to the Galra.

“Uh, I was like legally blind Shiro, I was useless to them without eyes or maybe a seeing eye dog to tow me around.” If Shiro noticed his voice shake he chose not to mention it. Matt needed to get off the topic before Shiro asked anything he wouldn’t be able to lie about. “When did you escape? Was it super recent?”

Matt entered the final code, sending the message into the ether and standing to leave. He made his way to the door of the tent as Shiro spoke close behind him.

“No, it’ s been almost a year. Did you find Voltron?”

“No, they’re not going to be traceable, but I sent out a beacon only they’ll think to look for.” Matt stopped walking, “Wait. Did you say you escaped _almost a year ago_?”

“Yes?”

“Thats impossible.”

That’s impossible. Matt only escaped a couple months ago. Shiro was still there when Matt escaped. He knew that. He saw him, what, a couple days before he the rebellion broke him out?

Matt could swear all the oxygen was sucked out of the room, and he pushed through the tent toward his hut. Stumbling in, he braced himself against the dresser and breathed. About a year ago? That was around the time he helped his cell escape. That was when Shiro tried to escape but was captured… 

Unless he wasn’t actually captured.

_Unless it was all fake._

His breathing hitched. Fuck. Was it all fake? 

Haggar. Could she do something like that? Was it even possible? Was it the drugs? His knuckles turned white as they gripped the dresser, physically forcing the world to stay still beneath him. Matt was a logical boy, and the Galra could do a lot. He had been made privy to that in his time under Zarkon’s control. It was entirely possible that Shiro _had_ escaped all those months ago and they’d messed with his brain. After all, that was really their strong suit when it came to Matt.

The revelation was smothering. Matt couldn't breath. He felt himself teetering on the edge and desperately tried to regain control.

Did this mean he was an obedient pet for nothing? He helped Zarkon to keep Shiro safe, but what if the Shiro who needed his saving never even existed.

If he did it for nothing, did that mean he was _just_ a killer?

 _Yes. You are._

Matt dropped to his knees, gloved hands still gripping the desk. He practiced number one of his calming techniques and breathed in through his nose out through his mouth, pulling himself back from the edge and settling his heart rate. He was in control again. Fuck his inner demon. Fuck Zarkon. _Fuck._

A hand gripped his shoulder, making Matt finch. 

“Hey, you okay Matt?” He was shaken from his stupor by Shiro’s concerned voice. 

 

Matt couldn’t let him know what happened on that ship. 

 

_They’d never forgive you Matt. You’re a monster, and they wouldn’t understand._

Matt hummed his assent. _Valid point my dark companion._ He slipped into that character he played so well, carefully detached his hands from the dresser, and turned to face his friend.

“I'm fine my dude. I was just really worried about you for the longest time so it's great to know you were always safe. Anyways,” He laid down on the bed roll below him. “It's getting late, I have a mission in the AM and you seem exhausted. Let's hit the hay!”

“A mission? Where?” Shiro didn’t look convinced as he laid down on the bedroll next to Matt’s. Not good. Shut the conversation down Matthew.

“Ah, it's nothing big! Don't worry.” Matt let loose a high pitched, nervous sounding laugh and cursed himself. He was better than this. Why was Shiro making this so difficult?

“Can I come with?” The older boy leaned in and inspected Matt's face.

“Sure!” Matt yelped without really hearing the question. He turned onto his side, facing away from his friend. “Ok goodnight!” And shut off the light.

 

Matt waited for what felt like hours, still clammy and shaky with nervous energy, until he heard Shiro’s breathing even out. He quietly stepped over his friend and left his room, making his way through the semi-empty streets. The aliens greeted him casually, Matt usually didn’t spend his nights sleeping, so no one gave him a second look as he steered himself towards the training space. 

He needed to break something, he needed an outlet for this negative energy before it consumed him. If what Shiro said was true, _everything_ he did was for nothing. The intrusive thoughts berated him and he went through the entire list of calming techniques before making it to the training space and settling on the technique he dubbed ‘meditative violence.’

The breakable plates shot from the machine, hurdling towards Matt with increased speed and accuracy. He smashed each one out of the air with a staff, shattering them before counting the hit and multiplying it by 17. His mind was consumed with the math, no room to think about the people he killed. And certainly no room to think about how much he did for Zarkon…

How much he did for the sake of a boy who wasn't even in harm's way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! Got the chapter out in time! This one is mostly a transition chapter to show like where they're at, but I still hope it was cooool.
> 
> Lol Thank you so much for reading!! Let me know what you think, and have a stellar weekend (::


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Shiro, on a mission.

Matt sat across from Shiro as the ship hurtled through space and towards their destination with Rin at the helm. The seats lining the walls were filled with some of the rebellion’s strongest, and largest, fighters. The two on either side of Shiro generally dwarfed him, making the older boy look a like a child and really testing Matt’s willpower as he forced himself not to giggle. 

Shiro met the others earlier that morning over breakfast, and Matt was both happy and pissed that they all became fast friends. He was happy, obviously, because it meant Shiro would get along with everyone while he stayed with the rebellion.

Pissed because they all took Shiro’s side when Matt said he shouldn’t come on the mission. 

Traitors.

Matt _was_ doing much better after his “meditative violence,” though. He spent the night smashing plates until his body and mind reached a contented numbness. He was exhausted, sure, but vastly more in control of his emotions. Who cares if Zarkon tricked him, it’s in the past. All his concerns are tucked away and forgotten. He’s fine.

That’s what he told himself at least.

That being said, he didn't want to bring Shiro along today and risk another slip up if his friend decided to make another shocking revelation. His stomach twisted. God, last night.

He sighed and leaned back, resting his eyes. _Stop thinking about it, Matt_

 

Today they were raiding a Galran stronghold. The small nameless planet had no native intelligent lifeforms, but it was _rich_ in resources. Be it food, fuel, or precious metals; this planet was useful and easy to control. Based on their intel, it was occupied by a minuscule band of Galra, just enough to work the machinery needed to harvest the resources and a couple guards. All in all, the perfect target for the rebel group. They could send in a small group to incapacitate the guards, destroy the harvesting machinery, and steal what resources were already gathered for themselves. It would hurt the Galran empire without risking many lives.

It wasn’t a huge move, but they didn’t have the resources to go around liberating planets. Not yet, anyways.

Matt peaked past his eyelashes at Shiro and smirked as he watched his friend get help clasping the back of his mask from the hulking figure next to him. The rebellion masks for a mission like this were black. They wrapped around a person’s head and only covered their mouth and nose, not unlike a snowboarding mask. It was really just to protect against gas attacks, but, for how basic it was, the clasps _were_ stupid difficult. The bigger guy grunted as his large fingers fumbled with the human-sized latch, and Matt bit back a grin. 

He was so glad to have Shiro back.

Every time he looked at his friend, it was a bit of a shock. For one, seeing him in the rebel uniform was weird, like mixing two things that didn't belong together. Heck, seeing him with the rebels period was like that. It was a strange out of place phenomena similar to when you see a teacher at the grocery store or a school friend at a family party.

What was more disconcerting, though, was how Matt remembered Shiro smaller and so much softer. That softness was still visible, of course, in the way Takashi’s eyes squinted when that gentle smile crept across his lips. But now it competed with the older boy’s arms that looked like they could break a man in half, _edgy_ white bangs, and face scar that would put space pirates to shame. Matt snorted at the thought and quickly tried to disguise it in a cough when Shiro caught his eye. This had the older boy chuckling and shaking his head.

The softness was there when he did that too.

Matt pulled his feet up onto the seat, and lazily listened to Rin discuss the plans for the day. They were fairly simple: The team gets air dropped, they trip some sensors and get all the guards out of the base and fighting. Then, they incapacitate the guards, set the bombs, blow ‘um, collect the resources, etc etc. Matt tunes it out. His mission is different.

While all this is going on. Matt will be slipping into the Galran base and doing some recon. 

“Alright brothers! I will be waiting on the ship for your call, good luck!” Rin hollered over his shoulder to the crew, and all but Matt stood and turned towards the now opened hatch in the wall. Wind whipped through the cabin, and rebel after rebel dived out the door, turning on their boosters only when they were a safe distance away from the craft. Shiro edged forward with them, but turned in confusion when Matt didn’t stand.

“I’ve got a different mission, you have fun though.” Matt gave him a lazy thumbs up, but, to his horror, Shiro only turned and sat back down. “What are you doing?”

“You said I could come with you. I’m coming with you.” 

“You _came_ with me, but you should _go_ with them.” Shiro looked unimpressed with that argument, so Matt continued with a smirk “My job is more boring than their’s.”

“That's okay, I want to stay with you.” Shiro shrugged with a soft smile, warming Matt from inside and making him tug his mask further up his face to hide the goofy grin that threatened to escape. All of a sudden he couldn’t remember why he wanted to go without him in the first place.

 

And that’s how they ended up with Shiro once again on the back of Matt’s hover bike as it was ejected from the storage compartment of the craft and flown towards the Galran base’s coordinates. They wiz over the planet’s rocky surface, periodically dodging machinery jutting from the dirt.

It was only minutes before they hastily parked on the roof of a lone metal building, stumbling off the bike and running towards the only feature on the smooth surface, an air intake. They both landed in front of the flat grate, Matt smiling wickedly at Shiro and the other grinning back.

Matt pulled a smooth, silver cylinder from his belt. Pressing his gloved fingers into the sides, he felt the warm metal unfold from itself and extend into his trusty staff. Shiro insisted he didn’t need a weapon, but Matt forced him to bring along a knife just in case. Right then, Shiro fiddled with the blade on his own belt as he watched Matt work with serious precision.

The younger boy stroked the side of the staff making one end pop with white hot heat. The tip glowed dully, and Matt ran it along the edge of the air vent. He watched as the metal was effortlessly cut away the moment the staff met it, melting beneath the tip as if made from wax and dripping molten metal into the air intake. He reached down and held the grate as he cut away the final remnants and threw it to the side where it skidded loudly across the roof. With another click, the staff was small again and being reattached to his belt.

He took a second to look into the inky depths.There were no schematics available for this specific Galran base, but based on experience Matt knew it should be a straight shot down. He reached into his belt and pulled a small marble sized drone from a pocket. It blinked to life before rolling off his palm and plunging into the air vent. The two boys watched the pale blue light fall, briefly illuminating the passage before hitting bottom and flashing brightly.

Matt looked to his wrist where a small screen displayed what information his little drone managed to gather.

“It’s about a ten foot drop with a four foot opening to the…. left. Dropping and rolling, we should sustain minimal injuries if any. You can also climb down.” Matt reached into his pocket one final time and pulled out another silver cylinder. This one he pressed into the metal at the edge of the vent and watched as its tip heated similar to the staff, melting the building’s metal and then cooling it quickly, adhering itself to the vent’s wall. With another touch, the opposite end opened up and a small rope unfurled, cascading into the hole. 

Matt looked up, brows furrowed, when he heard Shiro chuckle. “What?”

“Is that like a grappling hook?” Shiro asked, his eyes were sparkling and Matt found himself smiling back, not really sure where Shiro was going with the question.

“N-I guess? Kinda? It’s so we can get back out later…”

“Got anything else in that utility belt, Batman?” 

Matt guffawed at the completely unexpected joke, and took a second to compose himself before countering.

“Okay Shiro. If I’m Batman, then you're _absolutely_ Robin number 2.” He put the back of his hand to his forehead and wiggled his fingers in a poor imitation of Shiro’s tuft of white hair, eliciting a laugh from the older boy, before pushing up from the ground and wiping the dust from his uniform. “Ready, boy wonder?”

Shiro nodded, face still stretched in a smile.

Matt dropped his voice, making it low and hopefully Batman-esk. “The Dark Knight works from the shadows.” And with that, he jumped. Matt was swallowed by the darkness, and for the brief moment, it was bliss. 

Matt loved things like this, when excitement and nerves make him painfully aware he is still completely human and alive. Adrenaline managed to shake away his numbness without awakening the panic, and that might be why he liked flying so much. Wind whipping his hair against his face and streaming through his outstretched fingers, his stomach somehow finding its way into his throat and plummeting all at once. God. _Adrenaline._

The ground rushed up to meet him and he tucked and rolled into the narrow corridor to the left. He could see, but he knew Shiro wouldn't be able to. One more belt originating gadget later, and the air vent was washed in dull blue light. Moments later, Shiro joined him.

 

The two maneuvered through the tunnels in a half crouched position until Matt could hear it hollow out below them. He cut through the ground one last time and the boys dropped into the purple lit hallway of the base. 

 

When Matt first got his eyes, he noted beautiful, intricate patterns on the Galran walls. He had no idea at the time that there was a meaning behind the swirls and squares. With his later _experience_ though, he learned what they were.

Directions. There were directions imbedded into every Galran ship to help others navigate the winding corridors, imperceivable to anyone without their eyes. Unfortunately for them, Matt acquired a pair of their eyes.

As the boys darted through the hallways, Matt scanned the walls. He followed the swirling dotted line as the corridor stretched beneath the pounding feet, turning as it did and steering them towards the control room.

 

Everything was going according to plan, and, since Matt was involved, it was only really a matter of time before it went to shit.

“Do you hear that?” Shiro stretched an arm out to stop Matt. The boy had been occupied with navigating and wasn’t paying attention, but he didn't need to _hear_ the noise because a second later he could _see_ what was causing it.

Sentries. A lot of sentries. 

They quickly filled the hallway, giving the two no time to discuss.

Shiro dashed forward first, quickly cutting down his opponents with his enhancement and leaving an afterimage purple streak with each swing. Matt followed closely behind, aiming his back towards Shiro’s so the two could cover each other. He swung his staff with striking accuracy, a product of months of “meditative violence,” smashing sentries into the walls and each other. 

The beauty of sentries was their robotic nature. Matt usually did his best to keep the fighting relatively harmless, opting for throws and chokes over direct violence. But with the sentries he could just fight. Fight without fear for the person he could harm, without the guilt that followed red stained hands. His pulse thrummed in his ears, the feeling not all that unpleasant, and his mask gratefully hid his excited smile form view.

He thrusted the staff forward, sending it straight through the chest of a sentry. He used the now captured body to his advantage, swinging his staff and dragging it into several other robotic guards, knocking them all to the ground. 

More quickly filled the clearing Matt made, weapons raised and ready. One swung its sword out, forcing Matt to slide beneath it and pup up behind the sentry. But with his back no longer facing Shiro, he could see how the older teen was a little overwhelmed by the group pushing in on him. Matt shoved a guard in front of him forward, sending it careening into the crowd around Shiro and knocking several others down in its wake.

The boys caught each other’s eyes with conspiratorial smiles and charged the remaining guards as a singular force, rotating round each other and relying on the other’s strengths. Matt would use a guard’s momentum to lead an unbalanced figure into Shiro’s reach, and Shiro would take it out.

With the two of them together, it was fast work. 

However, the fact that they had to face the guards wasn’t the problem. What _was_ mildly concerning was that these robotic sentries were there at all. They were not in the information they had about the Galran occupation here. And _that_ should have been Matt’s first warning to turn around and reevaluate their plan. Of course, hindsight is 20/20, and instead he maneuvered through the now still sentries littering the floor and continued on his way to the control room with Shiro in tow.

 

When they reached the door, Matt was planning on hacking the keypad to get them in, but Shiro beat him to it. He placed his enhancement on the keypad and the doors slid apart without protest to reveal the empty control room.

This should have been Matt’s second warning to turn around. There is always someone guarding the control room, if not at the helm, but he was too busy trying to ignore the glowing Galran metal to let this empty room concern him.

They slipped through the double doors and put themselves in front of the main control.

“Now what?” Shiro whispered, anticipation clearly written on his face, to the smaller teen who was rifling through his pockets for the alien equivalent of a flash drive. Once discovered he raised the small cube gloriously into the air and placed it on the controls. Both came to life, bathing the boys in blue light once again. Above them, the screen flashed into existence, of various codes and Galran plans scrolled across it behind a loading bar that crept lazily forward. Matt smirked in satisfaction and plopped himself onto the floor.

“We wait.” He whispered back before leaning his head against the paneling and motioning for Shiro to sit beside him.They fell into a comfortable silence shortly after, content to watch the unintelligible words and photos flit across the screen.

 

“My, my, what is this?” Both boys jumped to their feet when the voice sounded behind them, spinning and falling into their respective fighting stances. Before them stood a Galran officer, his hulking body filling the doorway. Based on the red uniform and the emblem on front, Matt would have to guess it was a Commander, though a low ranking one at that. 

His pulse quickened as he raised his weapon defensively. There wasn’t supposed to be _any_ officers on this planet, let alone a Commander. He dared a quick glance to Shiro who looked just as on edge as Matt felt. “Remember our instructions. Don't engage. Protect the flash drive…dude.” He probably shouldn’t use Shiro’s name in case it got back to Zarkon that the leader of Voltron wasn't in the Castle of Lions. All of a sudden, he was glad they all wore masks.

The alien chuckled at the two boys, and they bristled in response. “So it is you, _Genius,_ I had a feeling you would come if I made this planet an easy enough target. ”

Matt froze, “What did you just call me?”

The alien continued as if he’d never spoken,“I had heard you were aiding the rebellion now, _Genius,_ but I couldn't believe you would make such an imbecilic decision. Looking at how effortlessly you walked right into my grasp, however, I guess I overestimated your intelligence.” His mouth twisted into a cruel grin as he glared down at the two frozen boys, “Emperor Zarkon was furious when they stole you from him, Genius. He has been searching the galaxy for you, having us search as well, and I think I’ll be rewarded greatly when I finally manage to catch his favorite pet.” His smile widened and Matt felt and icy chill shoot down his spine. “I’ve already sent for reinforcements. They should be here in mere dobashes to collect you.”

“Taki-dude,” Matt’s voice shook as he spoke, his tongue suddenly entirely too large for his mouth. “Run. I don’t want you to hear whatever he has to say. I’ll get the drive. Go. _Now._ ” 

He had decided only yesterday he was going to keep everything a secret from Shiro and keep his friend from worrying by letting him continue to think he was sent to the work camp. But, it seemed the universe was out to get Matt today, taking away every ounce of control he had over his own life. 

“I’m not leaving you Matt.” Shiro’s tone held resolve, exactly the opposite of what Matt wanted to hear.

“Why do you want him to leave, _Matt?_ ” they name came out as a sneer, spit like an insult from the Galra’s lips, “What have you to hide? If anything you should feel proud of your legacy! Fighter, spy, strategist, inventor; if I recall you were quite the tool for Lord Zarkon. Why continue with the failing rebellion when you had such a prominent place in the Empire Genius?”

The Commander prattled on, but his voice was becoming increasingly difficult for Matt to hear over his own pulse thundering in his ears. His breath came in shorts bursts and his vision swam.

Matt had been getting better since he joined the rebellion months ago. Learning how to deal with what happened, controlling his outbursts and unfettered desires, not spiraling into the panic induced abyss whenever he was reminded of Zarkon. And, if it weren’t so terrible, he might think it funny how all his hard work could come crumbling down in the span of 24 hours. First it was Shiro breaking away at his resolve last night, and now it was this guy coming at the same resolve with a fucking sledge hammer. 

Matt raked his clammy fingers through his hair, letting them get tangled in the knots. His palms fell over his ears and pressed, a futile attempt to block out the growing static affronting his nerves. He wanted to calm himself down, but his mind was miserably blank of any useful techniques to do just that. Empty of anything but white noise and the Commander’s mocking voice reminding him of him everything he didn't want to remember. 

_You’re a monster Matt. You belong with Zarkon. You belong_ to _Zarkon._

“Matt?” A hand gripped his shoulder and Matt blindly shoved the body away, his knees buckling beneath him with a gasp.

Shiro? He was still here? He can't _hear_ this, he needed to _leave._

“Takashi, GO _please._ ” Matt hoped the older boy could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked to Shiro pleadingly as the ground swayed beneath his feet, and noticed the horrified and unsure expression contorting his face. “ _GO!_ ”

“Yes, boy, listen to the Genius. Leave him with me, he is in good hands.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Genius..”

“Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!!” His hands clamped down harder on his ears as his pulse skyrocketed. He was teetering on the edge again, bits and pieces of himself falling to the wayside in every passing moment, and Matt didn't want Shiro to be here to witness when he finally fell apart.

“Ah, I see they’ve clipped your wings. Worry not, Genius, Lord Zarkon will assuredly return you to your former glory.”

“SHUT UP!” The yell burst from Matt a little wildly. His hands found his staff with an ease that comes from practice, and Matt rushed the Commander, Shiro’s shouts going forgotten. He was shaky and could feel the cold sweat dampening his shirt and making his grip slick. Numb legs threw Matt into the air where his arms unconsciously spun the staff before smashing into the Commander’s head.

Or smashing is what it would have done if it hit its target. The Commander grabbed the staff mid air, leaving Matt hanging from the end. He was dropped, landing in a crouched position before launching up and aiming a kick at the Commander’s broad chest. It too missed its mark, and, before Matt knew it, there was a hand squeezing around his neck. The Commander said something to Matt as his fingers desperately tried to find leverage and pry the vice from his throat, but he could do little more than watch the lips move. Even that was foggy as Matt’s vision became blurred. Matt was grasping at reality so fiercely that it was breaking apart between his fingers. He was slipping, god, he couldn’t hold on.

This daunting realization was followed by the Commander throwing Matt against the wall, and, as his body hit with a sickening thud, he finally gave up. He careened over the brink and crumpled in on himself.

 

———

 

The night before, Shiro was sure something had upset Matt. One moment he was fine and the next he was nervously avoiding discussion and urging Shiro to sleep. When morning came and the boy was back to joking and smiling, Shiro half convinced himself he’d imagined it. It _was_ late and he _was_ exhausted, two things that would make it easy to misinterpret a friend’s actions.

But now, as Shiro watched Matt have a full fledged panic attack in front of him, he was sure he wasn’t mistaken. And it was horrifying. Shiro had seen Matt panic before, but it was nothing like this. He trembled and grasped his ears over stuttered breaths, his eyes became fogged over and unseeing. Shiro might have found it in himself to be surprised by what the Galran officer was saying if he wasn’t so terrified for Matt’s well being.

He reached out a hand and gave Matt’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, hoping the gesture came across as supportive as he intended, “Matt?” 

He was met with a firm shove as two strong arms pushed him away. “Takashi, GO _please._ ”

He couldn’t leave him like this, not so vulnerable and obviously not with this officer threatening to take him away. Shiro wracked his brain for something to do, some way to fix it so Matt could stop pleading with him to leave. 

“ _GO!_ ” 

The two in front of him held another brief exchange, the officer obnoxiously self-assure and Matt unraveling at the seams. His volume rose until he was practically screaming, a wild look overtook his face and all of a sudden he burst forward. 

Shiro tried to stop him. “Do not engage,” that was their orders, but with Matt out of his grasp he couldn’t do much short of fighting as well. 

And when Shiro watched Matt slam into the wall and crumple, he was about to do just that.

“Matt!” He started forward, planning to block his friend from the Commander’s advance.

But then Matt stood.

And Shiro froze.

Matt was…different. There was no other way to describe it, really, but Shiro still felt that _different_ failed to truly encompass the change. It was as if someone flipped a switch.

Matt, who was only moments ago quivering with a look in his eyes that mirrored that of a trapped animal, was now unnaturally calm. His face was blank, eyes staring dispassionately at the officer in front of him, back straight. 

It was like someone put the room on mute, an eerie silence filled the space as Matt blankly, calmly appraised the officer.

“Genius…” The officer broke the trance and whatever it was that was holding Matt still.

Shiro has seen Matt fight before, first when he fought him in the woods and then against the sentries. His style was geared more towards self preservation than harm, and, while gracefully executed, Matt’s movements exemplified his excitement. Taunts and show-offy moves were spliced intermittently, and it was all more fun than efficient.

This, however, was completely _different._ Matt ran forward with a precise, offensive gait. There was no excitement as he streaked towards the officer, staff raised and ready. He dodged effortlessly as the officer struck out, nerves now etching themselves into his previously pompous expression. 

Matt felled the officer a second later by scooping his legs out beneath him, and Shiro watched as he ungracefully tumbled to the ground. Matt stood next to the officer’s head, face still frozen in the emotionless mask as he looked down at the alien.

“Per his request, only Lord Zarkon and high ranking officials are permitted to use that title.” Shiro’s mouth dried as Matt droned and pressed a button along the side of his staff. A blade extended from the end, and Matt quickly positioned it above the officer’s chest. 

“Wait! Don’t!” The officer pleaded.

“Vreppit Sa,” Matt’s tone was flat as he lifted the staff above his head to plunge it downward.

“Matt!” Shiro yelled frantically, his exclamation, thankfully, making the teen pause. He turned to face Shiro as if he hadn't realized the other was in the room, and cocked his head to the side.

“Champion.” It was more of a statement than a question, and Shiro’s stomach dropped just as the jarring buzzer sounded behind him. Matt seemed surprised as well, eyebrows shooting towards the ceiling as he blinked a few times in rapid succession. 

Oh. The flash drive! Shiro turned to see the loading bar completely full, the small box blinked from its position. He reached out and grabbed it, and when he looked back Matt’s expression was no longer blank. Stern and determined, he fastened his now small staff to his belt before leaping over the officer’s body and into the hallway.

“Let’s go.” He grunted, turning down the corridor and sprinting. Not needing any additional prompting, Shiro quickly followed suit. Matt spoke into his wrist as they ran, “Rin, this was a set up. Reinforcements are coming. We need to go.”

Moment’s later, they were shimmying up the almost grappling hook Matt put in place earlier, hopping onto the hover bike, and zipping into the storage compartment of the rebel ship. It was dark down there, and completely empty. The others hadn't stolen any resources, so the mission must have been a bust.

 

Matt had been completely silent since they left the base, and, now that they were finally safe, the reality of what just happened came crashing back to Shiro. It came to the forefront of his mind, demanding attention and answers. The shock, and confusion, glued him to the bike as Matt dismounted and briskly walked towards the exit, not looking back to Shiro.

“Matt!” He called out in frustration as he stumbled off the bike and raced to catch the smaller boy before he could slip through the door. Once he was with the other rebels, Shiro wouldn’t be able to get any answers. And that would be unbearable. “Are we going to talk about what just happened?!”

“No.” Matt didn't spare Shiro a glance, gloved hand reaching to press the keypad.

“Wait!” Shiro’s hand jutted out in an attempt to grab Matt’s before it could open the door. Without notice, his wrists were snagged by the smaller teen, and he was forcefully spun around and rammed into the door. Shiro’s wrists were held behind his back, and Matt’s broad chest pressed Shiro into the door, holding him still as he leaned forward. Shiro felt Matt's hot breath ghost across his ear, and he shivered involuntarily.

“I would advise against touching.” Matt practically whispered, voice weary, and Shiro shivered again. He was quickly released from the grip as the younger boy steered himself away from the door and towards the wall instead, hands reaching out to brace himself against it. 

Shiro watched as he released a shaky sigh before sliding down the wall placing his face in his hands. 

“Matt?” There was no response. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there watching Matt sit perfectly still. The silence was overwhelming, and his treacherous thoughts focused on the idea that Matt might have lied to him with frustrating persistence. He ignored it though. His friend looked so small, and all Shiro wanted to do was reach out, hold him, and let him know that, no matter what, it was all okay. He tried in vein to reassure his friend, but every attempt died and dried up on his tongue before he could choke out the first syllable.

 

Eventually he made his way into the common sitting area alone. 

 

“Hey Shiro, what’s Matt doing back there?” Rin turned from the helm expectantly, his cheerful smile melting when his eyes land on Shiro. “Oh.”

He didn’t know what expression he was making, but it must have been bad. 

“Ealfa, take the wheel. I’ll be back in a tick.” Rin gave his seat to another before rushing past Shiro towards the door in back. The door to the storage space. The door to Matt. 

Shiro stopped him.

“Is there anything I can do?” His voice came out a strained, desperate whisper, and he winced at how pathetic it sounded.

“No brother, but don’t worry. He’ll be fine.” Rin sounded more like he was assuring himself than Shiro, but with that he disappeared through the door.

The ride back was had in miserable silence, no one particularly happy about the failed mission. The flash drive felt like hot lead in Shiro’s palm, the catalyst for whatever negativity was now debilitating his friend, and he wanted nothing more than to whip it out the hatch. 

Rin stayed in the back room with Matt until the ship landed. At that point, a few others on board encouraged Shiro to go to the dining hall with them, ensuring him Matt would probably meet him there. Shiro ate with the others politely, but, when Matt didn’t join him by the time everyone else started clearing out, his concern skyrocketed. He grabbed an extra plate of food and headed towards Matt’s shack, praying he’d be there.

 

Pushing in, he found the boy already asleep on the bed roll at his feet.

 

Here’s the thing about Matt that most probably wouldn’t guess, he could be very sneaky, and no one knew it better than Shiro. Looking at the sleeping boy, he had a feeling this was one of those times.

Back at the Garrison, Shiro would have to _force_ Matt to sleep. The smaller boy would get so absorbed in his side projects that he would go days without remembering he needed to eat and sleep. If it wasn't for Shiro bringing him snacks and insisting that he go to bed, he wouldn’t have done either. 

At first, Matt just did what Shiro told him to do. But, as the two became closer, he would find ways around Shiro. The biggest problem was sleeping. Every night, Matt would pretend to sleep until Shiro himself fell asleep. Then, he would sneak out and spend the night in the lab. Shiro only realized what was happening after Matt fell asleep in the middle of a simulation.

Shiro started pretending to sleep after that, waiting until he heard Matt try to sneak out and then giving the boy a disapproving look until he crawled back into bed. 

This worked for a few weeks, but then they were both too tired to function, so Shiro settled with putting a bell above the door that was too high for Matt to reach and would ring every time the door opened. They both slept after that.

Right now Matt was either _really_ exhausted, or pretending to sleep to avoid talking to Shiro. He was betting on the latter.

Shiro stretched out on his bed roll and let his breathing even out slowly. 

Evidently, it seemed Matt forgot Shiro could do this, because minutes after Shiro let the soft snores sneak past his lips, Matt was on his feet and pushing through the door. 

“Where are you going?” Shiro sat up and Matt froze in the doorway, “You need to sleep Matt. I know you didn’t last night, I heard you leave. You can be mad at me, but,” He sighed, “you should take better care of yourself… Matt, I’m sorry.”

The smaller boy was just a silhouette in the doorframe against the light of the pop up city. The hand on the doorknob seemed to tap in a counted rhythm, and Shiro leaned forward to see Matt looking distraught, worrying at his lip. He sighed.

“I’m sorry Matt, I didn’t mean to pry or overhear. I couldn’t leave you alone though… Please…?”

“Do you…Do you maybe want to follow me somewhere?” his voice was small and unsure, but Shiro took the extended olive branch without question. 

“Absolutely.” He’d follow Matt anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this chapter is two days late, I hope no one is peeved! I had to pick up a bunch of shifts at work all the while struggling with some good ol' fashioned writer’s block, and there was just no way I was going to finish on time. This one is a bit longer than most though, so hopefully that makes up for it!! 
> 
> I know I have some comments I haven't responded to, I'm going to get to them after my shift today because I'm totally running late! And I also want to say thank you to everyone for the encouraging words and feedback! Especially for this chapter they helped me keep writing despite the block!
> 
> Anyways, as always, I hope you enjoyed reading!! Let me know what you think. How do you like the title Genius? _The Champion and the Genius_ had a good ring in my head, but I also decided at 3am last night. lol 
> 
> I’m aiming to have the next one out by Sunday and get back on a regular schedule! Also, I want to add that the rest of the volition crew should come round in either the chapter after the next or the one after that!
> 
> Thank you so much!! (:


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt spills some guts, and for the first time they aren't someone else's. 
> 
> Oooh, too soon? Lol Matt and Shiro chat.

The forest was silent as Matt pushed through with Shiro on his tail, save for the cacophony of bug and animal calls. He weaved through the trees as if pulled by an invisible rope, like a moth instinctually drawn to the flame or a newborn turtle to the ocean. He needed no direction and no prompting. It was dark, and even with his eyes the trees seemed to meld into one unyielding shadow. But he knew where he was going, realistically, he could make his way there with his eyes closed if necessary.

 

The first day Matt woke up with the rebellion, really woke up, not the waking fever dreams that bordered on reality and the surreal, his nerve endings were raw. His senses felt like they had been rubbed down with steel wool, and it took him a while to absorb the way everything _felt._ It sounded silly, but, after months of being drugged, the way his blanket made him itch, the way the air smelled like dirt and heat, it was all overstimulating. The planet was hot, and ungodly kind of hot that made him sweat so profusely his shirt clung to him… and it was amazing. There was a light shining on his face through a dirty tent flap, and it wasn’t some artificial lighting simulating day and night cycles. No, it was a _sun._

_Nothing_ was tinted with a purple hue.

It was overwhelming, but in the best of ways.

He was pretty useless at first, though. He hallucinated sometimes, and his body was weak. He couldn’t remember how to do a lot the things they wanted him to do, and if they forced him to try, he either ended up staring at his task for hours without moving or having an attack. So, they told him to take his time, and he decided to do just that by exploring the woods daily.

He learned the best places to hide and to eat. He found new resources and species. Eventually, he started to come back to himself, doing experiments in the woods and returning to the camp proudly with new samples for the lab. 

He ultimately got to the point where he could contribute to the rebellion again, and he joined them without hesitation. Going on missions, training, inventing; he stopped having time to aimlessly explore the vast expanse forest that endlessness stretched across the planet. But he never stopped having time to visit _this_ place. 

He never told anyone about it either. 

It was private, something special he held for himself after everything, a little haven dug out and exclusively his at the edge of an unknown galaxy. It was one of his favorite places too, probably number two in the universe next to the small lake his parents used to take him and Katie to for picnics.

Taking Shiro here felt incredibly intimate. Incredibly intimate, but incredibly necessary. If Matt was going to talk through everything that happened, he wanted to do it somewhere he was comfortable. Somewhere he was really happy.

 

Matt wavered between nervous uncertainty and resolve as they got closer, making him want to both forge ahead and turn and run with every step. He _was_ going to talk to Shiro. Rin insisted he tell him everything, and Matt agreed it was probably for the better. Being so secretive is what led to now two separate attacks, and Shiro was his best friend. He would understand. He had to.

 

And, if he didn't, if he ended up hating him, well then Matt would just have to learn how to deal with another heartbreak.

 

He felt the smile tug at his lips as they reached the edge of his refuge, and did nothing to quash it.

It was hidden by a thick curtain of dark green vines falling from somewhere in the shadowy expanse above him. Matt reached out and waded in. They were cool as they slid over his arms, a gentle touch he came to associate with the peace that he found on the other side. And, like Pavlov’s dogs, he started to feel the calming effect prematurely as he blindly walked forward through the parting foliage. Behind him, he could hear Shiro’s short, frustrated breaths as he made his own way through the veil, and before Matt knew it, he was stepping out the other end and into a small clearing.

It was a ring of grass, thick and soft like carpet beneath his bare feet. The trees around the clearing were willow-like, though their vines were much thicker, creating the dense wall that encased the clearing. While hidden from the rest of the forest, no branches reached overhead, creating a window for the canopy of stars and unnamed constellations that lit the clearing dimly. Bugs, like fireflies but smaller, flitted through the trees and over the grass, making it look as if the stars had dripped from the heavens to speckle the space, a globe of flickering light to encompass the boys.

Of course, none of that was groundbreaking for Matt. The reason he really liked it here lay at the center where a small pool of crystalline, bright blue water sat encircled by a grassy bank and glowing pink wildflowers. He called them “mimosa pudicas" after a breed on Earth with similar characteristics because he’s an unoriginal piece of shit.

Matt took a few steps towards the lake as Shiro pushed his way into the clearing with a grunt. They both had been quiet this whole time, Shiro probably waiting for Matt to start the conversation, and Matt _just_ waiting. Waiting in hopes that the inevitable conversation could be put off for eternity.

As he drew closer to the lake, the grass beneath his feet came alive, slowly at first, and then brightly glowing. He smiled to himself, _this_ is what made this place so special. Each step left a shining green trail in the grass behind him, illuminating briefly before slowly fading away. 

Matt turned when he heard Shiro gasp, it was soft and a little amazed. The older teen stared at the vibrant ground where his foot had been and then looked back to Matt, eyebrows stitching together in an expression that screamed “is this okay?” Matt chuckled at his friend before nodding and sitting beside the pond, leaving enough space beside him for the carefully stepping Shiro. 

Matt dipped his toes into the water as Shiro took a seat beside him tentatively. The ripples sparkled as they rolled away from him, and he watched as fish, glowing in pinks and purples, drew long paths of blue light through water.

 

The water reacted to being disturbed like this because of bioluminescent bacteria. Sam Mun Tsai, Cairns, Gippsland Lakes; there were a few places like this on Earth and Matt had always wanted to go check it out. Lucky for him, he stumbled across this little paradise. The true work of evolutionary genius came in the form of everything around the lake, though. Living off the water, the plants and fish themselves took on their own bioluminescent properties, and they became all the more breathtaking because of it. 

Matt peaked at Shiro without turning. It was still uncomfortably tense and silent. The older boy sat rigid on the bank, shoes discarded neatly beside him as he dipped his feet in. He thoughtlessly ran his fingers over the small pink blooms at the water's edge, watching as they closed and lost their light the moment his fingers made contact. He drew his hand away quickly, eyes widening slightly in surprise before his face became concerned and tense again. Matt’s heart clenched and he tore his eyes away. This was going to suck.

They sat there like that for a while, the discomfort was potent, noxious and silencing. Each would open their mouths only to close it moments later, seemingly enraptured by a fish who ventured a little closer or the way the wind made a rippling wave of green light dance across the grass.

Eventually Matt took a deep breath and leaned over to Shiro, crossing the almost tangible divide. “I’ve been thinking, … since this afternoon really…” He swallowed, his voice hushed as if breaking the silence was a crime, “I’ve been thinking, and…well, you called me Batman right? I’ve decided I’m more the first robin, Dick Grayson, than Batman.”

Shiro’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.“Okay, I’m listening,” he prompted.

“Well, I am neither broody nor am I particularly cool, but I do have a penchant for puns.” He gave Shiro a leveling glance, and the icy tension slowly melted away, “Plus the Bo staff… Actually, it’s really mostly based on the Bo staff. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Shiro, but I too have a Bo staff.” 

Shiro’s chuckle consisted mostly of air being blown out of his nose, but it was a sound that tugged Matt’s lips up nonetheless. “You don’t say?” he muses before they fell into silence again, both looking back at the water smiling. The silence wasn't as suffocating anymore though, if anything it felt encouraging. 

Matt leaned back and looked at the sky. It’s now or never. They’re BFFLs, the KerberBros, Team Shatt. Shiro should know, and, if anyone would be okay with everything, it would be him.

Matt took a deep breath, and, eyes never leaving the sky, he ripped off the bandaid.

“I never left Zarkon’s ship, Takashi. I never went to a work camp. I was a gladiator, just like you were.” He rolled his head to the side to see how Shiro was taking it so far. The older boy said nothing but he visibly paled, eyes widening as he looked at Matt. He nodded once slowly, and then again with more conviction, encouraging Matt to continue, “I fought just like you, I got an… enhancement… just like you, and I got a new title just like you. It was the name you heard that Commander call me earlier. The Champion, and then The Genius,” Matt’s mouth dried out around his title and he released a nervous chuckle, “A, uh, bit derivative in design, I must say, but no one ever claimed the Galra were creative.” 

He tried for a smile, but it wavered and fell. Shiro looked too horrified to even attempt a smile, so Matt continued.

“The only difference really is that, according to you, you escaped about a year ago, and I, uh, well I didn’t. I h-helped my cell escape, actually thanks to your setting off the alarms.” Matt’s heart stuttered and he drew his attention back to the water where his toe was etching patterns into the wavering surface. He was unable to look at the face Shiro was making anymore. Matt hated that more than anything, Shiro getting upset over him, blaming himself. 

Shoulder hunched, Matt continued, surprised by how quiet his voice became. 

“I, uh, couldn’t get off the ship in time so I got to stick around… Zarkon led me to believe that they had someone I… someone _really_ important to me, and that they would hurt them if I disobeyed… I really wish I could say I resisted, Takashi” he winced when his voice cracked, “but I pretty much gave right in. And even when I was under his control I didn’t try very hard to escape.”

Matt let out a shaky breath. If he wasn't so exhausted this would have been a lot harder to discuss. Alas, he was emotionally drained after the day he had, and so he kept going.

“I did a lot of horrible, horrible things Shiro. I killed more people than I can count, and I _really_ wish that was all I did. The Commander said it himself, I was a pretty useful tool.” Shiro made a choking noise and Matt ignored it. “I don't think I was meant to remember anything, but, you know me, I have a great memory.” 

Matt looked like he was trying to give a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace than anything. This was all news to Shiro. Horrible, awful, terrible news; and he felt sick. He thought about the nightmares and the PTSD like symptoms he’d been having when he was with Voltron. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he could remember everything with the striking accuracy he knew Matt’s mind possessed, not to mention Matt was there much longer. The fact that he was able to carry on so convincingly fine despite everything was nothing short of amazing,

The younger boy curled in on himself, hunched over and staring at his hands like they were a puzzle holding the secrets to the universe. Shiro reached out to comfort him, but immediately drew his hand back, remembering Matt’s negative reaction to touch during and after the raid. Matt didn’t look like he knew what to say, so Shiro asked the question that had been itching in the back of his mind.

“What happened back there, Matt? On the planet. What happened to you, I mean.”

 

Matt inhaled slowly and let it hiss through his teeth. “That’s… harder to explain. I-I have a hypothesis,” he started, gesturing and speaking as if approaching the topic from a scientific perspective could distance himself from the dread that pooled in his stomach.“Are you familiar with the concept of muscle memory? Say, for example, I am playing a sport. Tennis. I would practice the strokes over and over until actually hitting the ball becomes second nature. When I am eventually in a game, I don't have to think about hitting the ball. When the stress is on, and everything seems so much more difficult, my body just takes over and hit the ball on instinct…”

Shiro nodded slowly.

“When I am very stressed, uh… w-when I feel like everything's falling apart and it’s completely out of my control, it would seem I too rely on my muscle memory…” Matt winced, “I think it might be something like a borderline personality or maybe dissociative identity disorder. I was never much into physiology, and I don't have any textbooks so it’s completely speculation, but from what I remember the symptoms seem similar…. I, uh, also think it's all exacerbated by my, uhm” He closed his eyes and waved his hand around as if trying to pluck the right word out of the air, “my, uh, my brain?”

“What do you mean?”

Matt blew a long stream of air through pursed lips. Palms pressed his eyes before dragging down his face. He looked exhausted, like every word from his mouth was a physical feat to overcome. The dark bags beneath Matt’s eyes looked like bruises, and for the first time Shiro wondered when the last time Matt slept was.

“Uhh, Haggar ... she… well she tinkered…” Matt winced again before reaching to the nape of his neck and pulling up his hair. A thin, knotted scar stretched across the base of his skull and up at both sides until it disappeared into the mop of hair. It left a smooth, pink track in the brown tresses, highlighted and almost glowing in the dim light. Shiro’s mouth went dry. “I don't know what she did exactly, I think they might have been trying to find a way to keep me… fuck… obedient without wasting the drugs. Obviously it didn't work, but I doubt it had a positive affect.”

 

“It was like you were a totally different person.” Shiro meant for that to just be a thought, and he was just as surprised as Matt when the words came tumbling out as a confused mumble. The two were whispering back and forth now, approaching each other like glass figurines, delicate and easily broken.“What triggers it? If you don't mind…”

“Everything that connects me to Zarkon.” Matt lifted his gloved hands ruefully “It’s why I keep these babies covered. They serve as a sick reminder that the _only_ time I am useful is when I'm being used for the Empire. Any semblance of strength I have rests solely in the gifts Zarkon has given me, the things he taught me… I'm nothing without the Empire.”

_Your broken_

“I'm broken, Shiro.”

Matt had a tired, pained expression as spoke, and his words were delivered without much thought as if he was simply regurgitating someone else’s. Shiro hoped the younger boy didn’t really believe them. 

Matt looked impossibly small, shrinking in on himself, and all at once righteous indignation swallowed Shiro’s shock and pity in one fell swoop. Matt was always so happy, so concerned about pleasing others and here he was feeling, what? Useless, ashamed? What happened to Matt wasn’t okay. They had no _right_ to use him and mess with him like this. Zarkon was a bastard, and if they didn’t actually kill him in that last fight, Shiro wouldn’t rest until they did. Matt wasn’t broken, he was kind and strong, and he never deserved any of this. 

Shiro turned abruptly and pulled Matt into a firm hug. The smaller boy stiffened in his grasp and then relaxed, melting into it and soon returning the motion. 

“You are _not_ broken Matt, and you are not useless.” He did his best to make his words sound powerful and convincing. “Yes, Zarkon did a lot to you, he gave you a lot and he took a lot, but that doesn't define you. These things are now a part of you, but that's _all_ they are. How you decide to use it all, thats what defines you… You are so incredibly strong Matt, and I am amazed you’ve been able to handle this all so well.” 

Shiro felt Matt press his face into the crook of his neck and hold tighter, if he noticed the water collecting in the dip of his collarbone, he'd never say. “It wasn’t your fault. Anyone in your position would have done what you did, and they wouldn’t have been nearly as strong coming out of it. It’s completely Zarkon’s fault Matt. You don’t have to feel guilty, and you don't need to hide the way it's impacting you. You’re friends back at the camp, me, we all care about you, Matt. It’s okay.”

A choked sob was muffled in Shiro’s tunic, his body shook with the effort and soon Matt was pulling away to look at him. His face looked tortured but fiery, conviction burned in his red rimmed eyes as he stared at Shiro and his voice came out more forceful than he had intended “You know, I decided the moment I got away that I won't use the things Zarkon gave me ever again. They said I needed them to be strong. I'm showing them I'm strong without everything they've done to me. No, despite it. I won't use my hands, I won't hurt anyone, and if I could take my eyes out I would.” The stream of words grew in volume as it progressed and was punctuated by another sob. “ _Fuck_ Zarkon.”

Matt let Shiro’s arms encircle him once again, the solid strength of his torso mixed with the warmth of his encouraging murmurs was magic. Matt spent months thinking he physically couldn't cry anymore. The more that happened, the more he wished the wells hadn’t dried up when they’d given him his eyes. But here he was, and all of a sudden the dam was broken. He gripped desperately at the back Shiro’s shirt and buried his face in the front’s fabric, hoping the older boy wouldn’t mind the way it was getting wet and gross. 

They could have sat there for hours, Matt wouldn’t be able to tell you, but eventually he felt the tears run dry. There was a weird sort of tired, contentedness that came from crying. He felt fresher, empty almost, and like his only problems were puffy eyes and maybe dehydration. He leaned back and smiled up at Shiro, this time the motion was honest, and his appreciation was clearly written across his face from the dip in his eyebrows to the crinkling by his eyes. Shiro found himself smiling back, eyes still swimming with concern.

“Thank you Shiro.” He wiped his face on the back of his arm.

“I really meant what I said Matt, you don't have to feel bad about anything. It’s not your fault.”

“What is this, Good Will Hunting?” Matt let out a wet chuckle and Shiro snorted, but the reassurance really did feel good. Shiro always knew what to say, it was one of the things that made him so admirable. He was probably a great leader, and Voltron was lucky to have him.

Matt felt like years of stress were peeled away and forgotten. Shiro didn’t blame him, he didn’t hate him, and he didn’t even seem to think poorly of him. Matt wasn’t proud or okay with what he did by any means, but, if he still had Shiro by his side, he felt like he might be able to reach okay someday. Maybe someday soon. 

Matt pulled away from Shiro and laid back into the grass. It came to life on contact, glowing around his head in a medieval halo, and, as he dragged his arms up from his sides to sprawl out, he imagined it might look like they left a pair of two glowing wings in their wake. Matt let his eyes meander over the twinkling stars and briefly wondered if any of them might be their sun. 

 

He turned to face the older boy, and they shared a smile.

There was no way he was going to be able to go to sleep yet, especially not with the knowledge that this was the first real time the boys had an opportunity to chat. And Matt had oh so many questions of his own to ask.

His expression turned hungry. It was almost comical beneath the blotchy cheeks and puffy eyes that made him look like a child, and Shiro knew they would be spending the night talking instead of getting some much needed sleep. He leaned himself back into the grass to lay beside his friend and noted the warmth it brought. They could stay up all night for all he cared, all that mattered was the buzzing trees, the sparkling sky, and their long-awaited proximity.

“Okay Takashi,” Matt pulled his arms up to rest his head and smiled at Shiro, “tell me about Voltron. I want to know _everything._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Hope you dug it and there wasn't too much description or dialogue. You all rock and thank you for reading! 
> 
> Also, trailer THREE AMMIRRYTEE HOO BOY AM I STOKED!!! :D
> 
> haha thanks again! Lemme know what you think and have a lovely afternoon!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weeks pass and Shiro is still with the rebellion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third portion Pidge's point of view (:

 

The two boys chatted well into the night. It started out about Voltron; what they’ve been doing, how it worked, about the other members, how Katie is, and what the fuck her name was.

“What was it again, Shiro? Pickle? Plip? Pangea?”

“Pidge.”

“Pitch? The fuck?”

And eventually it evolved from there. Where they’ve traveled, things they’ve seen. Matt discussed the rebellion and projects he’d been working on, and Shiro listened attentively. They continued as the mapping of stars overhead shifted across the sky, their earlier discussion and the topic of Zarkon seemed nothing but a distant memory. And, with it, any semblance of barriers or tentativeness was forgotten. They fell effortlessly into conversation, the back and forth apparently like riding a bicycle for the two. It was easy, second nature.

Neither would be able to tell anyone how it happened if they asked, but at some point during that endless night Matt persuaded the other to go for a swim with the assurance that _yes_ the pond was safe, and _no_ they were not going to “hurt the water.” They stripped of their shirts, years of dorming together keeping either from feeling uncomfortable, and jumped in wearing just their shorts. 

It was then, silently floating, surrounded by the sounds of gently lapping water and the sparkling above and below, that Matt had the opportunity to mull over something he hadn’t put much thought into before.

 

Shiro was unbearably handsome.

Matt wasn't sure how comfortable he was with that realization. On some level, he’d always been aware that Shiro was good looking. Ever popular with the ladies back home, no one knew why he stayed single. Matt always assumed Shiro was too wholesome or dedicated to schoolwork or something to pursue dating. But here, in this surreal and beautiful place with Shiro’s unwavering support, he was finding himself wondering anew why it might be. 

He watched Shiro with a newfound interest, the way his eyes stayed peacefully closed and the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. The hard lines that usually defined his features melting away with the warm water at his back.

Matt watched it all, and felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch Shiro, brush the spindly strings of glittering light that dripped from his hair and down his face, or just let his fingertips graze his shoulder. It was innocent of course, a friend can objectively admire another friend, his best friend… Shiro swallowed, eye still blissfully shut, and Matt watched, captivated by the shallow dip of his adam's apple.

It was an _overwhelming_ need to touch, a hunger, that made him force his eyes away from Shiro as the blush crept up and engulfed his entire body, surprising him enough to make him slip below the water and inhale a lungful of liquid. 

When he resurfaced in a flailing of limbs, sputtering and flustered, there was Shiro, standing in the shallower end and laughing. Laughing in a way that shakes his shoulder, sending the drips of glittery water cascading down the curves of his stomach.

Models use baby oil to accentuate their abs, but when Matt got back to earth he was going to have to clue them in: Bioluminescent bacteria was far superior, and GOD what was he thinking!? Matt forced himself below the water once again, hiding everything but his eyes in hopes might do something to relax his stuttering pulse or cool the warmth spreading across his skin with a newfound vengeance. Tired, he was exhausted and slaphappy, and his mind was mistaking affection for _affection_ , that’s all! 

“Do you need some help over there, Phelps?” Shiro asked.

That made Matt choke again, sending Shiro into another round of susurrous laughter. “Are you making fun of me Shiro?!” he sputtered, “For almost drowning?!”

Shiro shrugged, smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh, Ho Ho. It’s on, Golden Boy.” And then Matt got his wish, he touched Shiro. He did more than the small brush of fingers he’d been imagining as he swam in low and gripped the other around the waist. He held tight, lifting Shiro up and turning to body slam him into the water. The taller boy hit with a grunt as he slammed into the water full force and was buried beneath the glittering waves.

Matt stood at the ready, waiting for Shiro to resurface so he can dunk him back down the moment he did. But when Shiro _doesn’t_ resurface, he gets worried for a second. And it is _just_ for a second because only moments later _someone_ has their hands wrapped around his ankles, and Matt is being pulled with a helpless yelp back below the water. 

They fought below the surface to see who could keep the other down longer. Eventually they both needed a breath, making the challenge a race to the top instead. At the surface the battle waged on, and Matt’s mind stopped thinking of how beautiful Shiro was and instead started thinking of ways to wipe that grin off his face. Shiro was tall enough to reach the ground underfoot, and he used that to his advantage, lifting Matt into the air and practically throwing him into the water. Matt, on the other hand, had to use every ounce of his weight to climb onto Shiro’s back and physically _force_ the other under, at least when he wasn't resorting to subterfuge in the form of underwater tricks.

When the game was over, the two had to practically crawl onto the grass. They flopped over, splaying out with faces heaven-bound, and took desperate gulps of air between laughs to fill the constricted space in their chests.

“Draw?” Shiro managed to ask.

“No. Way.” Matt wheezed between gasps “I. Climbed onto.Your shoulders once and. Did a backflip Shiro. I win.”

“Matt, you and I both know I let you. And it didn't even make me go under, points for style don't count.” 

With some effort, Matt rolled onto his shoulder to scowl at Shiro, “Style points always count, you barbarian.” And then his released a jaw splitting yawn. He was exhausted, and swimming took that last little bit out of him. When did he sleep last? Two nights ago? Three? He couldn’t remember, but he felt like there was enough action in these few days to hold him over for months. He yawned again and returned to his back.

Above them tendrils of early morning light began to ebb away at the stars, indicating that this was another sleepless night for Matt. His eyelids dipped shut. They _should_ go back, but then again the grass was so soft…

“Matt we should go back before you fall asleep.” Shiro was met with a noncommittal noise somewhere between a grunt and a whine. “Come on, stand up.”

The boy blinked owlishly at him, and the dark circles under his eyes stood out like bruises. “I don' wanna.”

Shiro sighed, but it sounded more out of fondness than frustration. He got up, slipped his shirt on and Matt’s into his pocket, and then crouched in front of barely conscious boy. His own body protested the idea, but he wasn’t about to sleep in a field and he couldn’t just leave Matt here alone. “Ok, get on.”

A small, pleased mumble bubbled from Matt’s lips as he ambled onto Shiro’s back, sliding long arms around his neck and letting the latter scoop his legs up. Shiro teetered a bit when he straightened his legs, bringing them both close to collapsing back to the floor, but they managed to stay upright. Matt sniggered and placed his chin on Shiro’s shoulder, eyes half lidded as he spoke.

“I’m a little heavier than I used to be, huh? Probably all the muscles.”

“Probably, Matt. Now go to sleep.”

He sent back a sleepy little smile before nuzzling into Shiro’s neck and relaxing. They walked in silence for a couple minutes before he spoke again, his lips were in the crook of Shiro’s neck, and each word sent them fluttering over his skin “Thank you, Takashi.”

 

\-------

 

And just like that, Shiro is smiling again. And at the ground, like an idiot. He missed Matt and the weird way he was able to make Shiro relax and laugh without effort. He missed Matt, and, despite the other thinking his revelations would somehow turn Shiro away, nothing changed. If anything, he felt honored Matt trusted him after all this time with such personal information. As he trekked through the worn path back towards the camp, Shiro couldn’t help but feel like he’d be willing to do a lot to keep the sleeping boy on his back from ever experiencing what he had with Zarkon again. He’d be willing to do a heck of a lot just to keep him smiling.

 

By the time they pushed through the foliage and into the camp, Shiro’s legs felt like lead. Each step felt like an insurmountable effort, and sweat clung all over him. Unfortunately, early morning was just as busy as sunset, and, if he thought maneuvering through the crowd was normally difficult, he hadn't imagined how hard it would be with Matt on his back. 

They bumped into people left and right, and, despite the fact that Matt was out cold, he was stopped just as much as if he were awake. Every couple of minutes they were questioned: Was Matt okay, what happened, who was Shiro? He was glad they cared, but after the 20th “Yes, he’s fine, just sleeping.” Shiro wanted nothing more than to just find Matt’s room and get them both to sleep. 

Plus, Matt _was_ pretty heavy.

Somewhere around the third time he trudged past the red and purple striped tent, Shiro admitted he was lost. Lost and not inclined to voluntarily start a conversation with anyone while the weight on his back seemed to grow. Gentle snores periodically escaped Matt, and it was frankly a miracle he wasn’t waking up. Shiro contemplated just laying in the dirt path and sleeping as he once again headed into the maze of tents and huts.

To Shiro’s relief, Huey, Dewey and Louie, the threesome of aliens he met on his first night, stumbled into him around the fourth loop past the red and purple tent. Maybe he looked as exhausted as he felt, or maybe they could smell the desperation on him, but wordlessly they trio beckoned for him to follow. They glared at anyone that tried to talk to Shiro, much to his relief, and, in what felt like a miraculously short amount of time for how hard it was for him to find it, they reached Matt’s hut. The three gave Shiro a terse nod in unison, spared one last glance at Matt and then all turned towards the tech tent flap. 

“Thank you!” Shiro called before fumbling into the room. He gently placed the snoring Matt down on one of the sleeping mats and plopped himself down onto the other. He felt his entire body sigh as it melted into the squishy foam, and, in moments, he too was asleep.

They both slept like the dead, straight through morning and into the next. Maybe it was the planet's air or the proximity to his old roommate, but Shiro couldn’t remember the last time he slept a full night since Kerberos. And, here he was, sleeping the day away and waking only to the sound of Matt clambering into the room, arms full of water canteens and two bowls of something that smelled vaguely sweet.

“You look well rested” Matt commented around a mouthful of whatever was in the bowls before sitting beside his friend. He slid Shiro his portion and then went to town on his own.

“What is this..?” Shiro frowned. The bowl was filled with something that looked a lot like wet clay and equally appetizing.

Matt paused long enough to contemplate the question, letting the goop fall from his spoon back into the bowl, and then shrugged “I don’t know… If I had to give it a name, though, I'd call it.... Spicy Surprise.”

“That sounds ho-“

“Bup, bup, bup.” He clinked Shiro’s bowl with his spoon and grinned, “Less talky more eaty, you’ve got a busy day ahead of you. We’re finally going to get you an assignment so you can stop freeloading.”

Shiro took a tentative bite, and then a bigger one. In Matt's defense, it tasted a lot better than it looked. Like berries and cinnamon. True to its newly given name, there was a surprising bite that wasn't completely unpleasant, though, the consistency left much to be desired. It was a step up from food goo, but not a big one.

After they ate, Matt ushered Shiro towards a tent in the center of camp. Black and unassuming, it housed the rebel leader, Unyu, and her council. Shiro had been under the impression that Rin was the one in charge because of how he carried himself and the way everyone listened when he spoke. Or maybe it was the large, nameless boulder of a man that yelled orders in the mess hall with a powerful voice. Other than that, Shiro hadn’t run into anyone that seemed inclined to lead. No one with air of authority.

Unyu, which Matt informed him was the word for mother in Ul’e, was a complete unknown, and Shiro found himself feeling a little nervous as Matt pushed him into the tawdry canvas. 

The tent opened up in front of him, a large, warmly lit expanse with a wooden table at the center. A meeting hall. At the head of the table stood the only other person in the tent, rebel leader Unyu. She was taller than Shiro and larger than the boulder of a man he just contemplated. Dark, coffee colored skin stretched over elephantine limbs clad in the loose fitting uniform he’d come to associate with the rebellion. Two tusks jutted from her bottom lip and curved towards the back of her head, drawing attention away from the fiery, intelligent eyes narrowing in the direction of the boys.

Shiro’s stomach dropped. Unyu radiated power. From the ease of her posture to the tilt of her head, she _embodied_ authority. This immediately wiped any doubt from his mind that anyone but her should be in charge. He peaked to Matt who looked surprisingly unperturbed, and wondered how he could bear to be so relaxed in such a daunting presence.

But then Unyu opened her mouth, and the image of powerful authority was instead replaced with one of caring and safety. Her voice was like molasses, all sweetness and warmth. Its heavy drawl enveloped the boys like a blanket, and the harsh image Shiro had in his mind evaporated along with his tension as she beckoned the two forward with opened arms.

“What can I do for you, baby?” Unyu hummed, regarding Matt with a fondness that should only be reserved for a mother and child. It was surprisingly fitting.

“This is Shiro,” Matt preened under her affection, smiling wide and talking excitedly, “my friend from Earth I told you all about! I figured it was time for you to meet him. Anyway, I’ll let you guys get acquainted. If you need me, I’ll be in the tech tent.”

Matt excused himself with a reassuring smile in Shiro’s direction, and Unyu dived right in. She asked Shiro question after question, and, while her tone was friendly and comforting, never once was it absent of her sure strength. She was eloquent and firm, asking about Voltron and possible future alliances. She inquired into Shiro’s own personal strengths and weaknesses, and how he found the rebellion. His answer was,“I don't know,” much to her disappointment. By the time they were finished, Shiro felt a kind of respect and dedication for the woman the rebels called mother. She eventually ushered him out the door with a fitting work assignment and a well meaning warning that Shiro couldn’t bring it in himself to be offended by.

“Y’no most of us here owe our freedom to that boy.” She gestured in the general direction of where Matt left the tent and then crossed her arms, “Myself included. He seems to trust you an awful lot, but, if I find out you’re abusing that trust and lying to us, I’ll kill you myself.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” he assured her firmly, and eased out of the tent to find his newly assigned crew. “Thank you.”

Since it looked like he wasn’t leaving the rebellion any time soon, Unyu decided it would be best if he made himself useful. He was assigned to work in the training tents with a few other aliens of different strengths and builds. He kept the place clean and trained with any rebel that asked. The other members of his crew had different talents, and when newer recruits came in to learn the basics they gravitated towards those with the skills they were looking for. Shiro’s hand to hand combat drew a lot of interested rebels, and, soon, teaching became his favorite task. 

In the few weeks that stretch from his fateful meeting with Unyu, Shiro got closer to the members of the rebellion than he would have imagined possible.

And somehow everything fell into place. 

Shiro was like that one missing puzzle piece. The one right in the center where not having it obscures the picture _just_ enough so that you can guess or pretend to know what it’s supposed to look like but you aren’t really sure. 

And then Shiro showed up, he slipped into that hole in Matt’s life that he’d been ignoring, and he fit there perfectly. It wasn’t sudden, but the picture became clearer, and life became easier. They fit together, their similar experiences and past friendship making them inseparable.

They went on missions together, trained together. Ate, slept, and planned together. Shiro spoke so much about Voltron, Matt could almost imagine he’d lived on the Castle of Lions himself. And Matt talked about the members of his cell, carefully avoiding any mention of fighting, with the same detail and adoration.

The members of the rebellion, courtesy of a talkative Matt, knew a lot of embarrassing stories about Shiro. And it just so happened that they were _more_ than happy to hear all the embarrassing stories Shiro had of Matt too, happily lapping them up and physically holding Matt down so he couldn’t stop the steady stream coming from Shiro. It was a weird sort of camaraderie, different from with the paladins because everyone here had similar experiences to Shiro. They’d all fought or been subjugated by Zarkon, and they all worked through their experiences at their own pace. It was therapeutic talking to everyone about their time and his own. Stories both good and bad. 

And Matt himself was never at a loss for ways to make Shiro smile. From adventures in the woods to silly pranks, he happily forced Shiro to play along.

Like with the socks. The first day Shiro was with the rebellion, Matt mentioned how Huey, Dewey and Louie would steal “any and all socks” left in the tech tent, and he hadn't been joking. Matt left socks for the trio frequently, like an offering to appease the gods, often hidden in new and harder to find places around the tent.“For science” he assured Shiro, but when they would return the next morning to find the socks missing, Shiro couldn't ignore the gleeful way Matt lit up. He loved it. It was more like a game than an experiment, and the game ended with Matt having no socks.

There was a lot of things like that. Matt was always smiling and laughing, making those around him do the same. He was dedicated to making the rebellion think of him as infallible, their fearless and happy companion. Matt wore his smile like chain mail, but the more time Shiro spent with him the more he noticed there were chinks in the armor.

Like the way he would lock himself in the tech tent for far too long, or the way he stayed up until he was so tired he’d spend the entire day in bed, absolutely unable to be roused. Shiro noticed the way Matt flinched whenever he used his Galran arm too, and the way his eyes went dark when someone ordered him to do something. He noticed the way he skipped meals, the way he sometimes forgot who or where he was, and the barely hidden panic attacks. The longer they were together, the more he noticed.

Maybe the plaster smile was enough for the rebels, but it wasn’t for Shiro.

He started paying attention, more than just noticing. They spent all their free time together anyway, so it was easy enough to find little ways to help. When he noticed the beginnings of an attack, Shiro helped direct Matt somewhere more private and kept him company. He brought Matt snacks on the days he could tell Matt hadn’t eaten, and, though their divergent schedules didn't always permit it, he tried to make sure Matt was sleeping. 

But it wasn’t one sided.

They both spent a lot of time talking to each other about their experiences, sharing their ways to work through the PTSD and giving each other a safe space to relax. Shiro’s nightmares became less frequent, as did Matt’s panic attacks. They were reliant on each other, solid rocks of support, and it wasn’t long until the other rebels noticed it too. Be it little glances that held vastly more meaning than any outside party could hope to understand or their weekly night trips into the woods to do who knows what, Shiro and Matt gave each other the honest support they needed, the ear to talk to, the person they could rely on.

They’d come a long way, weeks passed, and, while Shiro wanted to find Voltron, he couldn’t help but feel a bit like he was at home among the rabble here. Support, friendship, strength; he was going to miss the ease he had here that would be replaced with the stress of leading Voltron. Here he could joke and sleep all day if he really wanted, he could fight or he could help other members with their assignments. He felt free, untethered for the first time since they were taken from Kerberos, because freedom was what the camp valued. 

Things weren't perfect, they may never be again. But with comrades and understanding, with strength and the motivation to fight back against their abuser, they were getting there. And while the rebellion might not be having a huge affect on the overarching battle against Zarkon, it was having said effect on each member’s personal fight against him. 

Shiro might never know how he came to appear on this planet, but he didn't care. With every passing day, every passing minute, he became more and more thankful that it happened. Thankful to have reunited with Matt, and thankful for the opportunities it provided.

He wanted Voltron to find him, but, honestly, there was no rush.

For now, he was happy to spend his days joking with Matt and his nights having serious conversations under the overarching canopy of stars.

For now, he was happy.

 

————

 

After Shiro’s disappearance, the paladins all took different routes to try and find the figurative and literal head of Voltron. The Galra didn’t have him, after Zakon kicked the bucket their whole system was in disarray and Pidge used that time to hack the emperor’s main data network. There was no _mention_ of Shiro, no logs, and certainly no video footage of him in any cells. So, they figured he had to be somewhere else. 

Somewhere else in the universe. Super Specific.

Pidge _almost_ wished he _was_ taken by the Galra because that would have at least narrowed their search options down. Instead they were forced to break into groups and scour the galaxy.

Lance and Hunk took trips to nearby planets and spoke with locals. They searched for any news or gossip about someone called the Champion, Shiro, or the Black Paladin. Most of the aliens they spoke to didn’t even know Voltron was real let alone have information about Black’s pilot.

Allura and Keith spent a lot of time with Black herself, working to strengthen Keith’s bond with her so that he could maybe find Shiro through the lion’s connection. Based solely on how increasingly frustrated the two looked as they sat down for dinner each day, Pidge could guess they were having just as much luck as Lance and Hunk. That is to say, none at all.

 

Pidge, on the other hand, _knew_ she was approaching the search the best way possible. She’d thought about it a lot. How could a paladin, without any connection to the Castle of Lions, get in contact with it? Especially when they’d worked so hard to make the Castle practically invisible from all searching apparatus? 

The answer was he wouldn't be able to, _they’d_ have to find _him._

Stemming from that logic, Shiro probably was trying to make himself easier for the paladins to locate. From there she followed a huge convoluted line of reasoning and concluded he probably put a message out into the universe for them to find. Kind of like the alien radio chatter she picked up back on Earth. So, Pidge and Coran searched the universe for something that _screamed_ Shiro.

What Pidge wasn’t taking into account was just how _much_ alien chatter filled an entire quiznacking universe. And after sifting through it for days on end, scrutinizing every ad for “Ak’wa Tru" and “Vreppit Sal’s Micro-Cooker Meals,” she was just about ready to take a “New and Improved Ieblaubosian Hand-Pick” to the eye. She knew this _had_ to be the way, but Voltron put everything on hold to search for its leader and they didn’t have time to read success stories about “Sog’s Silkton, the salve that keeps your scales suave.”

Somewhere along the way, Pidge stopped believing they were ever going to find him.

But, when she saw _it,_ there was no question in her mind.

At first _it_ seemed unassuming. Three letters, “PYF,” promoted throughout the universe, she even skipped over it a few times to read other messages. Then she realized exactly what it was. Letters. As in, the alphabet. The Earth-English Alphabet letters, and while the letters didn't mean anything to her, she called in the other paladins to tell them her thoughts and see if they should pursue it.

“That’s him. That’s Shiro.” Keith spoke like he’d never been more sure of something in his life.

“Are you certain Keith?”Allura, prodded hopefully.

“Yes. ‘PYF.’ It stands for ‘Patience Yields Focus.’ Shiro says that to me all the time, he knew I’d recognize it.” Keith was walking closer to the screen now and he turned to Pidge, eyes steely “Follow that message, that’s where he is.”

“Aye Aye, Captain.” And so she did.

The source promoting the letters was from a space-mall at the far end of the universe on a planet called Cupronoe, but she found it unlikely a space mall would even have the appropriate technology, let alone allow Shiro to use it. So, she looked deeper. The messages coding was incredibly complex, really cementing the idea that it wasn’t some space mall’s doing, and that Shiro wasn’t working alone. After making her way through several firewalls, each more difficult than the last, she was rerouted to another planet, and then another. The paladins watched on bated breath as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

Each step that brought Pidge further down the rabbit hole was fantastically exciting. She hadn’t been challenged like this in forever, and she was going to have to shake whoever set this thing up for Shiro’s hand. 

 

Eventually, she landed on a screen requesting a password. She tried a few times to break through with and without the password, but with everything she’d done up until then, she was a feeling little fried.

“AHG” Pidge groaned after being blocked for the umpteenth time, removing her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose. “I quit, it’s someone else’s turn to think. I need a password Shiro would choose, any ideas?”

“1234abcd?” Hunk offered “That’s been my password since I was eight, it’s foolproof.” 

Pidge slid the glasses back onto her face and typed in the suggestion.

 

**1234ABCD**

**PASSWORD DENIED**

 

“Ooh no dice buddy, how about ‘space dad’?” Lance asked.

“I tried that first, didn't work.” Pidge shrugged.

“Kaida.” That was Keith. When he was meet with confused looks he continued, “That’s his mom’s maiden name.”

 

**KAIDA**

**PASSWORD DENIED**

 

“Voltron?” Allura tried and Pidge typed it in.

 

**VOLTRON**

**PASSWORD DENIED**

 

“DOOFLAX!” Coran yelled.

…

 

**DOOFLAX**

**PASSWORD DENIED**

 

“Quiznack!” Coran yelled again.

“Can’t you just break through with some weird hack-y trick, Pidge?” Lance bemoaned, already visibly bored with waiting.

“I’ve _been_ doing that Lance, it’s not easy! This page is especially diffi-“

“Oh! Oh! I know the password! Move over!” Lance pushed Pidge out of the chair and plopped himself into it. He took a second, face serious, to flex his fingers above the keyboard before he typed in his new password.

 

**PIDGE SUCKS**

 

“HA HA Lance, very funny. Now get out of m-“

 

**CORRECT PASSWORD AUTHENTICATION: WELCOME VOLTRON.**

 

The group, minus Lance who was laughing uproariously, sat in dumbstruck silence as coordinates flashed across the screen. 

 

That was it. They’d reached the end of the proverbial line, and it was a small and seemingly uninhabitable planet in a desolate galaxy.

 

“It seems like a trap. You said the planet is uninhabitable? I’m just saying, how could Shiro, y’no, inhabit it.” Hunk shifted from foot to foot nervously as the team debated what to do.

“Maybe it’s a civilization that just doesn't want to be found by the Galra so they’re being sneaky.” Pidge offers.

“ _Or_ maybe it’s the Galra and _they’re_ being sneaky.” Hunk moved on to wringing his hands.

“It doesn't matter. It’s Shiro, and I’m going. Let's get to our lions, he’s been out there long enough.”

“Bup Bup Bup, no way Keith.” Lance butted in, wagging a finger in the shorter boy’s face and earning himself a glare. “You have too much of a personal investment, you’ll act rashly. It should be Hunk and I, we’ve gotten good at talking to locals anyway. Pidge can come too.”

“Nah, I should stay back in case it is a trap, then Keith and I can break your sorry asses out” Pidge pointedly ignored the rude gesture Lance threw her way.

“Then it is decided,” Allura clapped her hands together and smiled at the team, “Hunk and Lance will explore this unknown planet, and we shall remain as back up in the outer atmosphere. But please do remain vigilant. This planet may be incredibly dangerous, and it’s status as uninhabited does seem very unlikely. If it is a trap, or you are concerned in any way, we want you to pull out and contact us immediately.”

Allura steered the castle towards the planet. Hunk and Lance piloted Yellow and Blue to the surface while the rest of team Voltron prepared themselves for the inevitable wait. They would be ready to swoop in if needed.

Everyone gave a silent prayer that they would find Shiro on this planet and not the Galra. It wasn't clear how much longer they could go without the Black Paladin.

And no one would dare mention how much they really just missed him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, say "pitch" and "Pidge" out loud. They almost sound the same.
> 
> Also, are you stoked to have the rest of the team involved cuz I sure know I am. (: 
> 
> I had fun writing this chapter, it feels like the first angst free once since the beginning :D lol I hope you enjoyed and nothing seemed too contrived! 
> 
> Thank you sooo much for reading! Let me know what you think!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk's POV as they explore the planet that might house Shiro.

“Hey Matt,” Sassy’s voice filled the helmet that lay discarded somewhere behind Matt’s bike, “I just wanted to let you know that sensors were tripped again. I know you’re out there getting rations so just be careful, okay? It’s probably nothing, but I’m sending out someone to check on it anyways…”

“…”

“Matt?”

“…”

“Quiznak. WEAR YOUR HELMET MATT.”

 

————-

 

“Lance, can we take a break. I think I’m overheating.” Hunk stumbled over a root, flailing and righting himself before he could face-plant. The moment they stepped out of their lions they were washed in a wave of sweltering heat. Pidge assured them their suits were in working order and should keep them cool, but about an hour into full on hiking it seemed the suits were at their limit. It had been hours since then. Hot air seeped into the suits, and Hunk was sweaty and out of breath. Hunk paused, hands on knees, “Please, Lance.”

“Come _on_ Hunk. I know you’re tired, I’m tired too, but we just took a break! We won't find Shiro if we just sit around all day.”

“I know, I know, but what if, like,” he paused to think,“there’s… a band of space pirates also perusing the woods and they attack us just up ahead? If we're tired we won't be able to fight back! We’ll be sitting ducks, kidnapped and sold. Sold to a Nunvill factory where we spend the rest of our days overworked and paid only in Nunvill.”

Lance stopped walking to shoot Hunk a bemused glance, eyebrow raised. 

“If we rest now we can fight back.” Hunk shrugged.

Lance snorted, “Okay, okay. One more break so we can avoid being Nunvill slaves for the rest of our lives, but that’s the last one! Let's stop over there, it looks like the trees clear out a little.”

Lance led them to the edge of some bushes that did, in fact, lead to a clearing. They pushed through and Hunk immediately collapsed to the floor, legs played out in front of him and chest heaving. He watched Lance survey the clearing. It was pretty thin but stretched far into the trees. Now that he thought about it, it looked more like a path than a clearing…

“Hunk…”

It looked a lot like a path actually, one that was cultivated by people as opposed to occurring naturally.

“Hunk! We found a path!” Lance jumped into the air with excitement. He rushed to Hunk, throwing his arms over the larger teen’s shoulders and tackling him the rest of the way to the ground. “We just have to follow this and we’ll be led right to Shiro I bet! Come one!” Just like that Lance was cutting the break short, tugging a feet-dragging Hunk down the winding trail.

The path wasn’t as long as it first looked. After a couple of minutes of, much to Hunks happiness, easier walking, they spot an actual clearing up ahead. It was a distance, but the outline of someone moving through the space is clear. Lance shushed his friend and they held each other back, surprised. They knew they would probably find people that weren’t Shiro, Pidge even said there’s no way Shiro set up the message on his own, but now, faced with the prospect of meeting that person, they were dumbfounded.

“What do we do now, Lance?” Hunk whispered, pulling his friend out of sight.

“Say hi?”

“What if they’re Galran?” That made Lance pause. 

“Good point… uh… I don't know. Go in guns blazin’ and hope there’s only one?” 

“I don't think that will work…. We could just turn around?” Hunk tried hopefully. Lance gave him a leveling stare and Hunk sighed, offering a new idea, “How about we get off the path and look at whoever it is from the cover of the trees. If they seem safe we can say hi, if not we try looking somewhere else for Shiro?”

“I knew you were the brains of this operation” Lance patted Hunk’s arm before diving into the foliage. It was slow work, carefully picking their way toward the clearing, cognizant of every branch and loud leaf underfoot. When they finally made it and peered through, Lance let out a low whistle. 

“Who is _she?”_

Who is she indeed. There, just beyond the trees, was a slender alien kneeling in front of a bush, back facing the two boys. Their figure was swallowed in loose fitting black clothing, and wild looking, long caramel locks were pulled into a haphazard ponytail at the base of their neck. They had a satchel basket at their side, and their hands moved from bush to the basket depositing small purple berries with each trip. As slender fingers carefully picked through the bush, a quiet whistle filtered through the clearing. The melody was something unknown to Hunk, probably some alien song, and the uncharacteristic timbre resonated through the clearing, leaving a low echo in the place of each note. Overall, it gave the song an eerie quality that set Hunk’s nerves on end. He had a bad feeling about this, and, whoever it was, they were clearly not Shiro.

“Oooh baby. I’m gonna go talk to her.” Lance mumbled before taking a step towards the path. Hunk grabbed him by the back of his armor and held him in place.

“Lance, do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, we’re supposed to be looking for Shiro, and what if she’s like, carnivorous? There isn’t even supposed to be anyone on this planet. I think we should just turn around and keep looking for Shiro.”

“Hunk, buddy,” Lance removed himself from Hunk’s grip and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “she’s picking berries. Not a meat eater. Anyways, I’m just gonna ask if she’s seen Shiro or knows where we can look. No harm in that right?”

“…I gue-”

“Good, now you stay here and let me work my magic.” Lance turned quickly and hopped through the trees quietly.

“Lance. Lance! Oooh quiznack.” 

Hunk watched his friend step out into the clearing, brush his armor off and then strike a casual pose behind the lady-alien. 

“Hey baby, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a galaxy like this?” Lance drawled, cocky grin settling on his face.

At Lance’s voice, both the alien and the berry bush she’d been kneeling in front of jumped. The bush stood, sprouting a short, pig-like body, and looked in horror at Lance and the alien. With that it took off into the woods, leaving squeals and paw prints in its wake. The running pig shook the alien from their trance and they spun to face Lance, surprise clearly written all over his face. That’s right, his. The strikingly human-like alien was clearly a _man_ and absolutely not a _”nice girl”._

Hunk chuckled from his place in the trees, and stood by to watch for the inevitable fall out that usually followed Lance’s attempts to woo women. All the while, he ignored the feeling that this alien also looked incredibly familiar.

A kind of recognition dawned on the stranger's face, eyes going wide as he looked Lance up and down "Are you… hitting on me?”

"Depends, did you like it?” Lance didn't miss a beat, letting his smirk grow and shooting finger guns at the lithe stranger. Hunk couldn't stop himself from audibly groaning in the bushes.

"Hunk!" Lance rebuked him under the cover of a cough.

“Hunk?” the figure smiled “Oh I wouldn't go that far, but I can't say I'm not flattered." The stranger walked over to his… space motorcycle? Hovercraft? It looked like it was made from a lot of scrap material, and Hunk had a hard time deciding exactly what it would do. It looked like an interesting piece of work, though, and Hunk decided he’d ask about it if the guy turned out to be, y’no, not evil. 

The figure removed the basket from over his shoulder and placed in on the bike before leaning against it himself, arms crossed with an amused grin adorning his face. It took everything in Hunk’s power not to either get up and grab Lance or tell the alien to stop encouraging his friend because it can only get worse from there.

And worse it got. Lance swaggered over to the bike himself, now strutting like a peacock.

“The name’s Lance. We’re looking for a friend, bout yeigh high, cool face scar, white tuft of hair." He rested his arm against the bike leaning close to the stranger, "We've been walking so long in this forest I could have sworn we were lost. Now that I've looked into your eyes, though, I know the true meaning of lost.” Yup, so much worse.

He was laying it on thick and the stranger seemed to take it in stride, grin growing with every passing moment. Hunk stifled his second groan and made the executive decision to leave and let Lance call him over the coms if he needs him. Hunk couldn't watch this. He carefully did his best to silently crawl away, but avoiding the loud underbrush was a slow process.

"Well it's your lucky day, Lance" the stranger leaned back and looked at Lance from the tip of his nose "You won't find him in my eyes, but I happen to know exactly where Shiro is.”

Hunk spun around. 

“...Huh?" Real eloquent Lance. The blue paladin was now standing slack jawed and silent, clearly not expecting that response. Hunk scrambled back to his hiding spot and looked around, struggling to find a way to get Lance to respond. In the end, he settled on whipping a pebble at his friend’s head. “Ow! Oh! Uh.. that’s… great! Ya! How-where... Ah.. can you take us to him?"

The figure chuckled, and there was a gleam in those eyes that could only mean mischief. Hunk once again found himself feeling a bit of déjà vu. Something about this alien was familiar, something about that impish smirk. It made his stomach hurt. They can't trust this guy, probably. He needed to get Lance out of there!

"AbSOlutely, blue. Hop aboard." The stranger gestured to the ride and Lance made a move to get on without hesitation.

"Ahhh, no stop!" Hunk stood from his spot in the bushes, giving away his cover. To his surprise, the stranger looked at him expectantly, like he knew Hunk was there the entire time. It doesn't matter. Hunk picked his way through the trees and towards the duo, “No, No, No. Lance we don't know this guy! Don't go off on your own on his bike because it's cool! Uh-uh. Nope. Not safe."

Lance started pouting, folding his arms while the stranger just laughed. 

"Look at him. This place was supposed to be deserted. Don’t you think it's shady he just happened to be here all alone, and then offer to drive you somewhere without me? We need to be more careful! No offense uh.... Look we don't even know his name!" He turned to the stranger and tried to look polite "I'm sorry, I'm Hunk and you already know Lance. You are?"

The stranger’s smile widened as he stuck out his hand. He looked almost giddy as Hunk’s hand slid into his own.

“I'm Matt. Matt Holt. I'm Katie, or rather, Pidge’s brother. It’s nice to finally meet you guys.”

 

It took a solid ten minutes for Lance to stop screeching, Hunk to stop babbling, and Matt to stop violently laughing. And, while he didn’t have their reactions on tape, Matt assured them the faces they made would be burned into his memory for as long as he lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry, this one is like half the size of a usual chapter. I've just been having trouble finding motivation to do much, but I figured a short chapter was at least better than no chapter. It'll probs be better next week. lol I hope you liked it! And I hope you continue to like it!
> 
> Also, season three ammiryte? I mean, I can't wait until October and I'm sure that sentiment is a shared one. (: lol have a swell week my homies.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voltron reunites!

“Seriously though, we’ve been searching for hours. Couldn’t you have given us more direction in your secret message?” Lance grumbled as he and Hunk watched Matt attach several different bags of berries to his hovercraft. 

After they settled down, the three set into awkward conversation. Lance and Hunk looked weary, and Matt couldn’t blame them if they did, in fact, wander for hours. He thought anyone who found the message would set off some sensors in camp before such a trek, but these two must have just missed them. 

They were also probably weary about him, granted Matt hadn't done much to earn their trust. He’d recognized them immediately from their armor, but there was no way for him to prove he was who he said he was. To commend them, neither made any rude comments about the fact that he featured a very Galran characteristic plainly on his face, opting instead to shoot him uneasy glances when they thought he wasn't looking. He couldn't blame them, the eyes _were_ unsettling.

They were probably eager to find Shiro, too. So, all in all, he wasn’t sure how to approach the small talk, and, maybe against his better judgement, fell into his usual way of avoiding serious conversations with joking.

“We couldn’t risk it getting intercepted!” Matt started with a smile but dropped it as his tone turned only slightly more serious, “Honestly though, I maybe should have given more direction. You guys are actually really lucky you landed in the forest part of this planet and not the desert.” He rummaged through his pockets for more carabiners to attach the bags to his bike, pointedly ignoring the nervous glances between the younger boys.

“Why are we lucky?” Hunk questioned hesitantly.

Matt paused, tapping a finger to his lips thoughtfully. “You ever seen the movie tremors? No? How about that one part in Beetlejuice where they visit Saturn?” The boys shook their heads to both references, and Matt scrunched up his nose in thought. He threw his hands out, face brightening as he came up with a reference they would get, “Ooh! You know that episode of Spongebob with the Alaskan Bull Worm? It’s like that!” 

Matt laughed before turning back to his bike, talking more to himself than the others, “‘It was big, it was all wiggly, and it ate everything!’ Oh man that episode is a classic, I wonder if Shiro remembers it… I wonder if Shiro even watched Spongebob…” Matt chuckled, unaware of the two shocked paladins he left behind, mouths agape.

Lance was the first to break from his stupor, “Are you telling me half the planet is filled with giant human eating sand worms, and you didn’t think to warn us?!” He screeched after Matt, and Matt returned the gesture with a shrug and a smirk over his shoulder. Lance froze and then all at once exploded in exasperation. “What the quiznack man?!”

“Oh man, Lance, we could have died. Eaten in a desert. Worm food!” Hunk’s voice wavered as he contemplated what could have been their untimely deaths.

Lance gripped Hunk’s arm and turned him around so they could whisper facing away from the working Matt.“He’s diabolical Hunk, just like Pidge. I don't care if he has nice hair, we have to leave him behind. We can’t have two of them in the castle.”

They both jumped when Matt spoke directly behind them, “Aw, I’m sorry guys I was just joking! There aren’t any giant sandworms. Maybe. Don’t be mad, I really couldn’t give you our specific location. And it all worked out!” He smiled at them before gesturing to his bike. “Now hop on, it'll be a tight fit, but we gotta get you both to Shiro, a change of clothes, and some food and water. I found this root the other day that kind of tastes like bacon and if what I heard about your food goo is correct, I think you guys will love it. I already talked with Chef, and you guys can take some spices and rations back with you to the castle.”

The paladins paused. Hunk was the first to speak. 

“Maybe we should hear him out.”

————

Getting to the camp with the two of them balancing precariously on the back of his bike was not the easiest thing Matt’s done in recent weeks. Matt thought Shiro was bad, but Hunk took the fear to a new level. Matt drove slowly, Hunk’s arms wrapped tightly around both him and Lance, squeezing the breath out of them each time Matt sped up. And, when he eventually tipped the vehicle into its upward ascent to park, Matt could have sworn they were all going to be pulled off the bike with the sheer force of their cumulative gravity. 

It was a miracle they made it at all. But, with the events of the day, it seemed miracles were scheduled to happen.

Because, against all odds, Voltron finally found them. Voltron found his message to Pidge, cracked the code, and found Shiro. And, based on the clear lack of purple ships, they weren't even followed. It was all incredibly surreal, and Matt found himself anxious at the thought. This was it, Shiro would finally get the chance to reunite with his team, and Matt would finally get to see Katie. 

Matt smiled to himself as the trio made their way through the camp, the two taller boys following behind him like ducklings. Matt watched as they took in the ramshackle city, wide eyed and silent. Based on their reactions he assumed they thought the planet was going to be as uninhabited as the records claimed. Or at least _less_ inhabited. But all the housing and the muted sounds of people living showed just how large the rebellion was.

It wasn’t particularly busy even. With the sun high in the sky, most people opted to stay indoors to avoid the blistering heat, so the trio steered themselves through a ghost town. As they walked past the kitchen cabin, Matt could see both boys perk up at the scents wafting out, and he paused. Dropping the few ration bags he carried in front of the door, he knocked to signal his delivery and then led them down the path again. Matt couldn’t ignore the way they looked back longingly at the kitchen as they walked away, and promised himself he’d bring them there after they found Shiro. Matt steered them towards the shack. Based on what time it was, Shiro was probably relaxing in their little home.

 

Lance took a couple of long steps so that he could walk beside Matt instead of behind him. “Are we almost there?”

“Yup, here in fact” Matt took one last turn and they were in front of his little home. He paused to think about how he should bring them together. Surprise? Give Shiro a heads-up and then let the boys in? Don't let him know until the whole team arrives?

 

Lance ran forward and threw the door open. It swung on its hinges and hit the wall behind it with a loud bang 

Surprise it was then.

Matt and Hunk stationed themselves behind Lance, and all three pairs of eyes fell onto the form of Shiro, asleep, slightly snoring and sprawled across both bed mats.

“SHIRO!” Lance screamed, and the black paladin shot up in surprise, ripped indelicately from his nap. There were pillow lines on his face, a perfect accessory to match the way all of his hair pushed to one side. He sluggishly blinked clarity into his vision.

“Matt?” He asked around a monster of a yawn, “Wha- Lance? Hunk!” Shiro jumped to his feet as he spotted the three boys waiting in the doorway. There was a second where it seemed the gears were turning, Shiro looking between Matt and the others, and then it clicked. “You guys found me?”

“Of course we did Shiro, we’ve been looking for you everywhere, right buddy?” Lance gripped onto Hunk’s arm as if to stop himself from jumping in his excitement, and then tried to tug him into the room.

“Uh, Lance, I don’t think all of us will fit,” Hunk mumbled to no avail.

“How’d you get here? What do you do here ? How’d you find Matt? Who set up the password, it was hilarious. I guessed it. Can I-“

“Woah, slow down Lance,” Shiro smiled at the younger boy, and Lance stood up straighter at the sight of it. Matt could tell they all missed each other, and he suddenly felt out of place in this heartfelt reunion. He opted to stand in the doorway awkwardly as Shiro continued, “First things first, do you guys want a change of clothes and some water? I remember going through the woods in my armor, and, while it was too broken to cool me off, I’m sure yours wasn't much of an improvement.”

“Yes”-“Yes please.” Lance and Hunk spoke at the same time, vigorously nodding at the offer, and Shiro turned to rifle through the drawer’s contents. Moments later he was handing Lance one of Matt’s black tank tops and a pair of navy harem pants, and Hunk a large green T-Shirt Shiro got a while ago but hardly ever wore and a pair of black shorts. 

Shiro joined Matt outside to give the two some privacy, and as they sat, backs against the side of the hut and eyes looking over the camp, a weird feeling settled between the two. It felt a little like a bubble had burst, their own private little vacation together was over. Shiro would go back to Voltron with the Paladins, and it would all be over. The late night swims, the cabin chats, the pranks. It made Matt feel oddly empty. Of course he wanted them to be found, but… maybe not yet.

“So, it seems the Paladins finally found you, huh?” Matt sent a small smile skyward.

“Yea, I guess they have.” Shiro sounded almost wistful, and Matt wondered if maybe he felt the same way about this whole thing. A little spark of hope lit, and he was about to ask before he was interrupted by Lance pulling open the door and admiring his clothing in the light. 

“Okay. I look fantastic. Is there a shop around here where I can stock up for the Castle because I have exactly one Earth outfit, and it’s definitely a problem.” 

“Mine is a bit…” Hunk stepped out after to reveal his outfit, shorts just a little on the too short side.

Lance let out a whistle “Ooh look at those legs! You need to get a few pairs of those!” He swung an arm over the Hunk’s shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially, “And you should _definitely_ wear them if we ever visit the Balmerans again.” He winked.

“Oh stop you,” Hunk said but he was blushing as he bat Lance away. “Shiro, you mentioned water and snacks right?”

Matt laughed, Shiro never mentioned snacks. 

 

His laugh drew the weary looks from Lance and Hunk again, and he faltered. “Sorry. We could go to the food tent and get you guys settled a bit. Maybe get what you want to take with you?”

“Yes please!” Hunk enthusiastically started down the path they came from, and the other three followed behind. Unsurprisingly, it seemed Hunk memorized where they noticed the great smells coming from earlier and led them right there. 

After getting everyone seated in the dining tent, Matt separated himself to go get food from Chef in the kitchen cabin. As he pushed out the door, he could hear Lance’s hushed tone.

“We really did miss you Shiro.”

“I know, Lance. I missed you guys too.”

————-

After being fed, watered and made comfortable, Hunk and Lance were a lot more willing to talk to Matt. The four of them conversed over snacks until Shiro decided it was probably time for them to talk to Unyu and tell her what was going on. Lance wanted to come with, but Hunk decided to stay back with Chef and pick the things he wanted for the Castle.

After the long walk across camp to Unyu’s tent, the three found it empty and decided to wait for her to get back. Shiro and Lance talked quickly, catching each other up on what happened while Shiro was here with Matt. Matt found he didn’t have much to add to the conversation, and, for the second time that day, he couldn't help but feel a weird sort of nostalgia for the recent past. 

He sighed and placed his head onto the table. He should be feeling happy for Shiro. He made a vow to be happier for Shiro and put on a smile.

With his head in this new position, though, he could hear a weird mumbling sound reverberating through the table. He sat up again and looked for the source. The noise was gone as quickly as it came, and the only thing on the table was Lance’s helmet. 

“Lance… is your helmet talking?”

“Oh quiznak! I forgot!” Lance scrambled to grab the helmet, pressing a button hidden inside that made the voices loud enough for the room to hear.

 

“-ance! Hunk! Pick up! Are you two okay? Can you hea-“

“Hey! Yes! We’re fine! Don’t worry we just took off our helmets. We found Shiro, and,” Lance paused to look at Matt. The older boy raised and eyebrow and Lance responded with a mischievous smirk. “and a _surprise_ for Pidge.”

“A surprise.” Matt’s heart skipped a beat. Katie. That was Katie’s voice. He walked closer to the helmet and reached out a hand to touch it, feeling a chill as her voice came through the speaker again. “Great, now I’m nervous.”

“Where’s Hunk?” An English sounding accent filled the com, it must have been Allura. 

“Hunk’s getting snacks fro-“

“Hey! Sorry! I didn’t know we turned the coms back on! Guys, they have a root here that taste like bacon. He wasn’t lying. I’m taking them all.” The trio in the tent chuckled quietly at Hunk’s very serious sounding declaration.

“Who wasn't lying?” A smile spread across Shiro's face that only meant this must have been Keith’s voice.

“Huh? Oh, Ma-“

“MA-MAGNAGORP, It was Magnagorp, the chef here. _right_ Hunk?” Lance cut his friend off, clearly desperate to protect the surprise he only just set in place.

“Magnagorp?” Matt mouthed to Shiro incredulously and the older boy responded mirthful shrug.

 

“…Right?” Hunk went along with it.

“Riiiight…” Katie didn't sound convinced, “Anyway, were already landed and walking to your location. You didn’t pick up, so Keith, Allura and I were coming in for rescue. Anything we should expect?”

“There’s a rebel camp. If anyone stops you, tell them your members of Voltron.” Shiro leaned in and his voice took on a deeper, more commanding tone as he gave direction to his team, “We’re in Unyu’s tent if you’re having trouble.”

“Shiro!” Keith gasped through the line, “They really did find you. We’re on the edge of the camp, we should be at your location in a minute so don't move.”

“Wait!” Hunk yelled suddenly,“Don't yet! I’m still in the food tent so wait for me! I want to be there when Pidge reunites with…Shiro.”

“What, why?” Keith questioned.

“Aw just let the guy do what he wants!” Lance whined jokingly, but shared a worried glance with the other two in the tent. “We’ll wait for you Hunk.”

“You guys are being weird.” Katie murmured, “Whatever we're almost there.”

Lance shut off the com, “Guys, what do we do?”

“Just go outside,” Matt offered, attempting to hide his growing excitement at the prospect of seeing his sister, “I’ll hide in here until Hunk comes back.”

Outside the tent, the sound of familiar voices drew near and Shiro squeezed out the tent with Lance in tow.

In the next second, Matt is bombarded by the sounds of reunion. Longingly, he wished he could be a part of them. He couldn’t see anything, or rather chose not to peek and give away his hiding place, and, with each passing tick, he wanted more and more to step outside. He was a breath away from her. He could hear Katie, Pidge, whatever. His sister was steps away as opposed to galaxies, and he just wanted to close the distance even more. He dared a peek through the flap only to find Shiro stationed himself directly in front of the small opening blocking his view.

“Okay!” Allua clapped her hands once to get the groups attention, “You mentioned this is Unyu’s tent? May I ask who Unyu is?”

“She’s the leader of the rebellion.” Shiro stated.

“Perfect, I would like to speak with her to discuss the possibility of an alliance. Could we just-“

“No!” Lance yelped,“I mean, you can’t go in there! You can’t…She’s not… uhhh…she’s pooping!”

“Pooping.” Keith deadpanned and Matt struggled to hold in his laughter. It seemed he and his sister still had the same sense of humor because from his hiding spot he could hear Katie cackle.

“What Lance is trying to say is, she isn’t in the tent right now.” Shiro’s voice came out strained like he was also trying to stifle a laugh.

“That’s perfectly fine. We can wait for her inside.” Allura must make a move for the door again because suddenly Lance and Shiro both shout “No!” in unison, and the body blocking Matt’s view was now moved to stand in front of Allura, arms spread wide.

“What’s going on? You guys are acting weird…” Matt’s eyes immediately snapped to Katie, her face scrunched up in confusion and arms held akimbo. 

She was so different. Shiro had told him what to expect, but no warning could have prepared him for this. She looked so much older, was it really only like two years? Short hair, armor, she even grew a little; Katie looked like an entirely different person. She looked strong. He had to physically hold onto the tent pole to stop himself from rushing out and stuffing her into his arms. 

Hunk needed to hurry.

Matt watched as Katie’s peeved expression turned into one of dawning realization as she looked between the tent and Lance, “My surprise is in there isn't it?”

“Nope, no surprise, just an empty tent full of nothing. Boring empty tent.” Lance was the opposite of convincing, as made evident by the conniving smile spreading across Katie’s face. Matt couldn’t help but smile. He knew that expression, even if it had been a while, and this wasn’t going to be easy for Lance.

“Okay then, you won't mind if I..” And she was off, darting towards the tent opening. 

“No!” Lance screamed and dived in front of her while Shiro kept a persistent Allura back and Keith looked on unamused. Pidge was using Lance's arms to hoist herself up, scrambling over him like he was a tree as the lanky boy tried to grab her. Matt had to hold back another laugh as Katie broke past Lance and got a foot away from the tent before Shiro grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her into the air like Simba.

 

“No fair.”She grumbled, slumping in his arms.

“I’m sorry Pidge, just wait for Hunk.” She started violently squirming in Shiro’s arms as a response, but before she could get free Hunk’s voice sounded out from down the path. He was running towards them, arms ladened with bags Matt can only assume held a bunch of spices and snacks. 

“I’m here!” Hunk bellowed as he got closer to the group, and everyone turned to look at him.

 

There was a long, pregnant pause before Shiro put Pidge back on the ground. They were all facing away from the tent and towards Hunk as he lumbered the rest of the way down the path. Matt used that as an opportunity to step out from the tent and stand behind his sister in mounting anticipation. 

“So, can I have my surprise now?” Matt’s heart lodged in his throat, pulse reverberating through him, and he couldn't speak if he wanted to. He was close enough to reach out and touch, she was so close. She was so very _real._

Shiro looked back at her and his eyes looked over her shoulder and landed on Matt.

“Turn around.” He gave her an encouraging smile, and Pidge, along with the other members of Voltron all turned to face Matt. But his attention was encompassed completely by the green paladin in front of him.

“Hey Katie,” he practically whispered, voice cracking at the end. He opened his arms a little. An invitation. A request. “I missed you so much.”

“Matt?” her voice sounded wet and confused. Her shocked expression twisted into one that meant ugly tears, and seconds later they were both buried in a death grip embrace. Katie cried, and Matt soothed her with strokes to the hair, ignoring his own stinging eyes. 

 

They sat like that for a while, and when it came time for them to move along, Katie still wouldn’t let go. Matt wasn't going to begrudge her this, so he picked the small girl up and let her remain in his arms in a reverse piggyback, face nestled in his neck and legs around his stomach. 

Maybe this change wasn’t going to be as bad as he felt at first. Shiro had his team back, and Matt had his sister in his arms, safe and as precious to him as ever. He placed a kiss in her hair and rocked side to side in an attempt to help her relax. He peaked at Shiro over her shoulder to see the black paladin ushering the rest of the team into the tent to give Matt and Katie a little more privacy. They shared small smiles, and then Shiro disappeared inside too.

Matt might miss what they had on this planet together, but looking at Katie in his arms, it was worth it for this.

 

———

 

The paladins met Unyu shortly after that. The alliance Allura mentioned was forged quickly, hastened along by the preparations Shiro made during his time with the rebels. Katie refused to let go of Matt, though she did grudgingly admit staying in his arms all day was unrealistic and moved to holding his hand instead. After that, they were all invited to join the rest of the rebellion for dinner and given free reign throughout the camp until the food was prepared.

Shiro went to where the Castle was being parked to direct Coran to the rest of the team, Allura stayed with Unyu and a few members of her council to discuss strategy and trade information, Hunk of course stayed in the kitchen to help make dinner, Lance dragged Keith somewhere to “get him something less horrendous to wear,” and Keith obliged with less complaints than Matt imagined he’d have.

Matt, on the other hand, took Katie to his tech tent.

Once inside she detached herself from him to inspect, with amazement, all of the little gadgets Matt and a few others had been working on with their very limited supplies. She would ask questions every now and then, how something worked or what it did, and each time Matt couldn't help but feel like he was back at home in their little work shed behind the house demonstrating new things he learned at the Garrison for a younger Katie.

“And what’s this one?” She pushed his glasses up her nose to inspect Matt’s pride and joy.

“It's the Augmented Noise Disseminator. It’s a prototype. Once it’s completed the machine should be able to mask the sound of the camp by scattering the sound waves. It’ll help us stay hidden if any Galran ships enter the atmosphere.” He smiled a bit smugly at the machine. It was a hunk of junk at the moment, but they’d been making some breakthroughs and it should be up and running in no time. He looked over to Pidge to see their expression had fallen, making Matt’s heart plummet along with it, “What’s wrong?”

“That just reminded me…” she started carefully and winced, looking uncomfortable with her own words as they left her mouth, “What happened to you Matt? I mean with the Galra. I mean…” She turned her eyes to Matt’s and they were big and pained, swirling with emotion. She gestured vaguely around her eyes and looked away almost ashamed, but Matt understood completely.

“Hey, hey, hey” He patted her head and smiled, though it was far more contrived than the ones they'd been sharing all day. “Don’t worry Katie, it wasn't anything bad. I just didn't have my glasses, right? And you and I both know I’m blinder than bat.” It didn't seem to cheer her up any, so he tried another angle, “They’re pretty great though. I have night vision now.”

She perked up at that and launched into a million questions about the eyes that he had been expecting, ones he knew he could answer. Their rest conversation steered clear of Matt’s time with the Galra, he gracefully skirted around any questions that got them too close to that line of questioning. 

Eventually, they met up with the others for dinner.

They ate, drank, and were merry. The sun dipped in the sky, setting and moving the rebel city into a bustling center only Matt and Shiro were prepared for. As the food tent filled up, the two excused themselves. The paladins would have to leave soon, start defending the galaxy from the new threat of Lotor, and Shiro still needed to pack.

They made their way to the cabin silently, both boys brushing shoulders in the bustling streets. 

Despite having just eaten, Matt felt empty. His stomach hurt and there was a vacuous space blossoming in his chest at the prospect of inevitable goodbyes. Good god he was going to miss this. He wasn’t ready to lose them all again. 

 

Matt wanted weeks with Katie, not hardly a day. He wanted weeks more with Shiro too. Wanted to bogart him, keep him all to himself where they could share secret looks and conversations by moonlight for eternity. He wanted so much, but he made up his mind long ago. He couldn’t keep the members of Voltron to himself. They had an important duty to the universe, a useful and needed job and Matt was little more than a pestilent kid who didn't want to share. 

He would hold them all back. Endanger them if anything based on how fucked up he was. He couldn’t trust himself, and so, with the disappointment it brought, he decided he’d have to let them go.

If you love something, right?

They didn’t need him anyways, and frankly probably didn't want him. Shiro missed them, and Katie found her place among the members of Voltron. Despite their kind words and reunions, he didn't belong with the group. He was an unsavory hang-on from a pleasant past. He wasn’t surprised when no one asked him to come back to the Castle with them. He’d been expecting it, and it was better this way. Both sides realized where he belonged. It was fine.

 

Matt sighed as they made their way into the cabin together for the last time. He leaned against the door jam and squinted against the twinge in his eyes as he watched Shiro shove what little he owned into a small bag. It was going to be hard. 

He was so fucking needy.

 

Shiro looked over his shoulder at Matt in confusion. The latter forced a grin onto his face, but couldn't really put his heart into it. 

“Come pack. I’m not doing it for you, you know.” Shiro joked, his smile faltering when he looked at Matt. “What?”

“I’m not- I don’t need to.” 

“Of course you need to, come pack.” Shiro tried for joking again but it came out more worried than anything, “I’m assuming you want more than one outfit on the castle, Matt.”

“Shiro… I’m not coming with you?” Why did he sound so meek? Matt knew this was best. He knew. That should make this easier. 

“Of course you're coming.” Shiro spoke intensely, standing up abruptly and dropping the things from his lap onto the floor.

“No, I can’t!” Matt sounded hysterical, he could hear it in his own voice. He backed out the door slowly, hands raised in front of him to ward the other off. Shiro lunged to grab him with a look of horror in his eyes, making for his wrist but changing and grasping instead at his elbow. Matt tried to wrench himself out of the tight grip to no avail. “Shiro, let go!”

Shiro must have seen something in his face because he let go of Matt’s arm like it burned him. Shiro looked hurt, and that alone was enough to make Matt feel sick. He couldn't stand to be there anymore. He couldn't breath. He couldn’t face goodbye.

 

Matt turned and he ran. Ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is ending up so much longer than I imagined it was going to and I have no idea how to make it shorter lol whoops
> 
> Anyways! Thank you so much once again for reading! I hope you liked it! If you've got any constructive criticism or things to say, I love to hear everything :D 
> 
> It's getting into the final arch before the ending so thats cool. hah have a cool day duuudes. 
> 
> (Also, Now that we know the Holts are italian all of Matts gesturing makes so much more sense.)
> 
> (Also Also, I know I haven't responded to all my comments yet, I have been super out of free time but I'm going to try to do the rest when I get home from work tonight!)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Matt chat, and he reconsiders joining Team Voltron.

Matt didn’t know where he was running. He let his feet blindly carry him through the dark woods, Galran eyes turning on despite himself and washing the path in new light. Branches whipped against his skin as he darted through the forest, warm wind combing through his hair. And, while Matt ran in order to avoid a panic, it seemed the feeling was determined to chase him down. He felt like a deer running from some unseen carnivore, its shadow looming with each step. He felt like he was back in the arena.

He was stupid. So so so, stupid.

 

Evidently, Matt wasn’t surprised when he ended up in his clearing with the shimmering pond. Where else would his feet carry him but somewhere he felt so comfortable. Now, though, it stood as a reminder of Shiro, and everything Matt was going to lose. _Had_ to lose. For their safety and his.

“It’s not like you’ll never see them again, Matt,” he assured the growing pit in his stomach as he took a seat next to the pond. Beneath the surface, a group of multicolored fish darted away from a larger grey one, drawing long and weaving paths through the water. He found it hypnotizing, and as he watched his heart rate settled back to its normal rhythm. “Stop being a baby.”

 

It wasn’t long before Shiro pushed through the dense vines to join him. Matt wasn’t surprised when the older boy appeared, and he wasn't suppressed when he took a seat beside him either. They both fell into silence, pretending to be enraptured by the glowing show beneath the water’s surface. It was a far cry from the comfort that usually accompanied their night visits to this pond, one more thing that would be lost after tonight. Matt idly wondered if he’d ever be able to come here again without missing Shiro. He sighed.

“Shiro,” “Matt.” They spoke at the same time, making them both start. Their mirrored looks of surprise made them both smile and helped to thaw the previous tension. 

“Let me go first.” Shiro started, “I’m sorry I freaked out a bit back there. You caught me off guard. We all just expected you would to come to the Castle with us, so, when you said you weren’t, I panicked. I’m sorry.”

Matt shook his head, “You have no reason to apologize, Shiro. I’m sorry for reacting so poorly. When no one mentioned it, I assumed you all agreed that I shouldn’t come.”

“Well, you know what they say about assuming…” Shiro gave Matt a tentative smile and the latter snorted.

“Something about it making an ass out of you, and you alone. Can’t remember how it ends, but that’s irrelevant.” Matt’s tone turned serious as he continued. “That being said, my opinion still stands. I can’t come with you.” Shiro opened his mouth like he was going to interrupt so Matt plowed through. He never expected to have to say any of this out loud, but the comfort that came from being in this clearing and the fact that he really had thought a lot about the topic helped ease him into the discussion.

“I’ve thought about it a lot Shiro, and, as annoying as you're going to think this is, I’ve come up with three main reasons as to why it would be imprudent for me to join Team Voltron.” Matt approached the topic with an air of scientific detachment, ticking off the reasons on his fingers as he spoke, “1) While I'm useful to the rebellion, I would be useless to you guys. You already have three incredibly talented technicians on board, so you don't need me for that, and you and I both know I’m a pacifist. I crack under the pressure of serious fights, and I’m only good here because everything is smaller scale.” Matt pointedly ignored Shiro’s reproachful stare as he ticked of the second finger and continued.

“2) I would literally be a danger to your team. Be honest Shiro, you’ve noticed how muddled and confused my mind gets sometimes. You’ve seen first hand what it’s like when it happens during a fight. There’s no way I could stop myself from hurting any of you if it came to that, and I don't ever want to be in that position. And, 3)” Matt heaved a resigned sigh as he ticked the final finger and let his hands drop, “I’m just not ready. I know I’m getting better, but it's not enough… I’m still a mess, Takashi. I still have panic attacks, I still have nightmares. I don't even know if I would be able to handle living on a ship again… I ignore the things that remind me of Zarkon, Shiro. That’s how I cope. You’re asking me to join you in a head to head challenge with his son, and I don’t think I'm ready… The last time I was given any sort of large scale responsibility, I led my friends to their death in the arena… So, in summation, it would be a dumb idea to bring me along and I won’t go…”

There was a pause after Matt finished his rant. A moment that stretched into an eternity where he was sure Shiro was thinking about how much he agreed with him, thinking of ways to retract his offer for Matt to come with.

 

“Are you done?” Was not what he was expecting Shiro to say.

“I’ve actually prepared a powerpoint presentation as well, if you want I can-“

“Matt, I’m serious.” Matt swallowed the rest of his joke and nodded.“Good. I don’t even know where to start. Why haven't you talked to me about this? We tell each other everything.”

“I didn’t think it was something that needed to be talked about.” Matt couldn’t help but feel a little rebuked. He shrugged and crossed his arms. “It all seemed pretty obvious to me.”

“Well, I don't even think there’s a word to describe how wrong you are.” Shiro sighed in frustration before rubbing the back of his neck and diving into a rant of his own, ticking off on his fingers in an imitation of Matt “Okay, 1) you are insanely intelligent; not only technically but about other species and the Galra. As much as you hate to admit it, you have insider knowledge unrivaled by anyone on team Voltron. And you say you can’t fight, but I’ve only seen you ever have a problem once and that was… a very unusual circumstance. Otherwise, you’re great and have a lot more technical skill than most of the other paladins… number two was you being dangerous right?” 

Matt nodded.

“Okay, 2) You said it yourself, you’ve been getting better. Not only that, I don't think you could hurt any of us. You forget that I’ve been with you every time you’ve had any problems since I’ve been here. You haven’t hurt me once. And 3) You don't have to do anything you're not ready for Matt. No one is going to force you into fights or to talk strategy. And, if you do want to do all that, we’ll all be with you every step of the way. We just want you around, Matt. You’re important to us. So, _in summation_ ” Shiro lightly teased the younger boy as he brought his argument to a close with that gentle smile Matt was loathe to let himself love, “I know you would be a great asset to the team, and Voltron would be lucky to have you.”

“There’s too many unknown variables. And variables beget risk, Takashi. Too much risk.” Matt warily latched on to the logic he knew backed his argument. He wasn't willing to let himself hope, even for a second, that it could all be as easy as Shiro promised. 

“As a scientist, no, as a _Holt,_ are you telling me you can’t handle a few unknown variables? A little risk?” Damn him. Shiro was easily overturning his arguments, making Matt call into question everything he so thoroughly thought was foolproof only moments before. A little war waged in his head as Matt tried to find a reason in his repertoire that could explain his overwhelming reluctance to go with Voltron. Because if his reluctance wasn't based in strategy, what was it?

 

“I don’t want Katie to know I’m like this.” Matt stated, his gaze seeming to find newfound interest in his entwined fingers on his lap as the arguments became more personal.

“She literally searched the galaxy just to find you, Matt. She won’t think less of you just because you’ve gone through something traumatic.” Shiro scoots closer until their legs brush. They’d long overcome any discomfort in physical closeness, and, in that moment, Matt found extreme relief in the small connection. Shiro nudged his leg, making Matt look up at him. “It’s starting to sound like you're just making up excuses. I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to, but I also really don't want to be apart from you again. I’ve loved every second here on this planet with you, and I’m not ready for it to be over yet.”

 

“I’m scared Shiro.” Matt didn’t like the honesty of the statement, and he liked even less the way his voice turned small and tired. The way he _felt_ small and tired. He hated the fear that followed him everywhere since the Garrison. Hated how weak he was in the face of it. And, when Shiro threw an arm over his shoulder to comfort him, Matt had to fight the urge to collapse into his strength.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you have the defenders of the universe supporting you.” Shiro gave Matt a reassuring smile and a little squeeze. “We won’t let you fall, Matt.”

“A-Are you sure? I mean really certain. Once I’m there, it’ll probably be a lot harder to get rid of me. I’ve been told I’m like an annoying weed.”

“Positive.”

Matt looked back up from his intertwined fingers to find Shiro is still smiling at him. It was warm, and Matt felt its effect immediately. A part of him that was unsettled seemed to lay to rest with the knowledge that he didn’t have to leave Shiro behind. Matt finally let himself lean into the hold, and he savored the calm it brought. Shiro smelled like grass and bonfire, and right now it smelled like home. 

Matt steeled himself against his nerves, determined to follow through, and pushed off the ground. “Okay, lets go back an-“

“GAH, Keith! Watch where you're walking!” Both Shiro and Matt jumped at the abrupt loudness of Lance’s voice as it came from somewhere within the thick veil of vines, “You keep elbowing me in the face!”

“If you weren't standing so close to me this wouldn't be a problem.”

“I CAN’T SEE, KEITH! I DON’T WANT TO GET SEPARATED AND LOST IN THESE WEIRD VINES!”

“ _Please_ stop yelling, Lance.” Pidge’s voice joined the other two, sounding strained and annoyed.

“Guys, what if these vines lead to the desert?” Hunk spoke apprehensively, quieting the arguing paladins. “We just ate. I mean, what if we all pop out in the desert after that big dinner?”

“Don’t you fucking dare Hunk,” warned Lance, his voice taking on a serious edge.

“Do I even want to know what that means?” Pidge asked before all four paladins broke through the aforementioned vines,“…Holy quizknak.”

 

Matt wasn’t surprised by how much they liked the clearing with its sparkling pond and glowing bugs. Only he and Shiro knew of its charm previously, and somehow this felt right. The new team Voltron, now with an additional member, enjoyed the next hour of stargazing and swimming. The younger four may not have known exactly why Matt and Shiro ran out here, but they could clearly tell something had happened. Matt noticed the way they reached out to him to make him feel included, and he was grateful for the effort. By the time Allura reached them over the coms to insist they head back to the Castle to sleep, Matt was feeling a twinge of excitement along with his expected nervous energy. And, when he packed up his belongings that night he let himself hope it would all work out just fine.

 

Matt reluctantly bid his rebel teammates goodbye that night. Rin assured him they’d see each other again and bid Matt safety and strength as Sassy barreled into him, enveloping Matt in a blubbering embrace. When Matt was finally set down, he found himself close to blubbering along with Sassy, and pulled them all three into a group hug. They would never be forgotten, and they wouldn’t go unmissed. He considered those two just as much family as he did Pidge. He let them know all those things and more, promised to visit, and finally thanked them for being there for him. 

“If it weren’t for you two and the others, I would never have survived my time in the arena. Or my time after. Thank you. I’ll miss you so much.” Matt was gathered into Sassy’s arms for one more spine-crushing hug before they separated. Matt stood facing the only two remaining members of his original cell’s group, and spoke around the lump forming in his throat. “Goodbye Rin. goodbye Sassy.”

“Goodbye, brother.” Rin smiled and Sassy nodded his assent before Matt was pulled away to give the rest of his goodbyes. He bid farewell to too many people, and they all started to blur together. He remembered a few of course, like Unyu’s kind wishes and Chef’s gift of Matt’s favorite dessert ‘for the trip.’ Huey, Dewey, and Louie managed to haul a sack of Matt’s old, once hidden socks, to his departure. After he laughed for entirely too long and assured them they should just donate them because he could never need so many socks, Matt could have sworn he heard a whispered ‘goodbye’ from the trio.

Matt knew he belonged among the rebels and he’d miss the ease of their interactions. But he was moving on, overcoming hurdles and doing more substantial things. As he approached the Castle with only a duffle bag of belongings and his staff, the sight of Team Voltron waiting out front for him brought him some semblance of that ease along with apprehension. It might be a challenge, but some things were worth fighting for. Katie, Shiro, the fate of the galaxy; those were things worth fighting for. 

Matt would be fine. He always was.

 

————-

 

The castle was quiet. Unnaturally quiet. It was completely absent of idle noises of bugs and wind or the muted chatter of people in other tents. And of course it was, Matt could have guessed it would be. But, as he sat in his cold and empty metal room, the unnerving silence still came as a shock.

After they all eventually left the rebel camp, the Team Voltron was exhausted. They got him sorted with a room, but almost as soon as he was safety inside they were bidding him goodnight. It was as if the exhaustion they’d been staving off in their search for Shiro came crashing down at once, and they could hardly keep their eyes open. Shiro stayed with Matt a little longer, making sure he was feeling okay and also letting him know where places like the bathroom were. Before long, though, he too was leaving Matt to his own devices for the option of sleep. 

“I’m just across the hall if you need anything, Matt.” Shiro assured him before the metal door slide shut, sealing him in with the silence. 

The problem was that Matt didn’t have the authority or the knowledge of the ship’s layout necessary to explore. He was still a guest, and, as entertaining as it would be, he wasn’t ready to get lost in the halls of an unknown alien ship. 

So, instead, he sat in his room. Alone. In the silence. Staving off the exhaustion that crept around the corners of his mind begging to be noticed. Unfortunately, in the silence his mind was able to wander.

 

It was subtle things that reminded him of Zarkon’s ship, and he hated how apt he was to notice them. The slight weightless feeling that even gravity simulators couldn’t overcome, the hollow way footsteps seemed to echo on metal floors, the recycled air that smelled sterile and bitter, and the temperature, or really, the lack thereof. Each similarity brought a sick twist to his stomach. It hadn't even been a day and he was desperate for a distraction. 

If he wasn’t careful, the boredom might lull him to sleep, and he didn't want that.

No matter the improvements in Matt’s mental health, the dreams never went away. Matt could usually avoid them if he stayed up long enough to really knock out, though. He didn't know the science behind it, but somewhere around day three he could fall into dreamless sleep. 

At the camp, Matt could always tell Shiro he fell asleep in the tech tent but instead spend the night tinkering. Unfortunately, he left most of his things behind, tools and gadgets were more useful to the budding rebellion than the advanced Castle of Lions, and he was regretting that decision as it left him with nothing to do to occupy his time. There were only so many times one could count the seams in the walls before they wanted to lose their minds.

 

The hours crept by in his windowless box, and, feeling more locked in than he had in months, Matt paced. He did sit-ups and pushups and made a detailed blueprint in his head on how he might rig his staff to make lightsaber noises when swung. Matt was halfway through shredding a pair of pants and using the scraps to braid himself a rug when a knock on the door gave him reprieve from his stir-crazy.

“Katie? Why are you awake?” 

Outside his door stood the pajama-clad Holt. Her hair was a mess, looking more like her head fought with the pillow than slept on it, and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Despite looking like the epitome of exhaustion, her eyebrow raise held all its usual sass. “I could ask you the same question.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Same.” She murmured, dragging her hands down her face before pinching the bridge of her nose. There was something about her that looked uncomfortable and unsure. When she heaved out a breath, Matt didn’t need to have been with his sister for the past year or so to know what it meant. She was worrying about something.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping the small contact might bring some comfort as he tried the reassuring smile that was usually used on him. Katie caught sight of it and let her gaze dive downwards to focus on her twiddling fingers.

“Could I maybe sleep here tonight? I kept wanting to sneak over and make sure you were still here, so I couldn't relax enough to sleep. I thought it might be okay with you?” 

“That’s no problem at all, come on in.” 

He stepped aside to let the bedraggled green paladin make her way into his room, incredibly grateful for the distraction. As the door closed, she eyed the room suspiciously, focusing in on the shredded mess of fabric in the middle of the floor. “What were you doing?”

“Making a rug, y’no, to liven up the place. Give it a homey flare.” He punctuated the point with half hearted jazz fingers and Pidge snorted.

“ _Crafts?_ ” She asked incredulously.

“Yes. _Crafts._ ” he drawled, sticking his nose in the air and placing a hand over his heart in haughty mock offense,“They are very relaxing, something someone as uncouth as you could never understand, I’m sure.”

Pidge snorted again. “You’re so dramatic. Can I help?” 

“Absolutely.”

And so they both sat on the floor and got to work on Matt’s makeshift rug. They worked in silence, Pidge shredding another shirt while Matt braided the torn pieces together. They’d made very little progress on the rug by the time Katie broke the comfortable silence, through Matt had finished a nice palm sized circle of blue fabric.

“Why am I enjoying this so much?” She mused, using the short blade to brutally finish ripping the final section of the shirt to tatters.

“There's a little bit of bird dog in all of us, eh Pidge?” He ribbed, not taking his eyes off the fabric, and Katie laughed.

“Oh my gosh was that a Lady and the Tramp reference?”

“I don’t know. Was it, _Pidge?_ ”

“I hate you.” They smiled at each other, and, for the second time since finding Shiro, Matt was amazed by how easy it was to reconnect with those he was closest to before Kerberos. It was almost too easy to fall back into this joking relationship with Katie. Too easy, and so perfect because of it.“I’m glad you and your horrible sense of humor are still in tact, Matt.”

“Thank you, and I am glad to have finally come back strong enough to defeat you and your ungodly gremlin strength.” 

“I’m being serious!” Pidge laughed again and Matt realized just how much he missed that sound. “I missed you, asshole.” She leaned over and pushed him with said ungodly gremlin strength. Matt let himself get toppled over so he could hear her sleepy giggles again, only this time they're interrupted by a jaw splitting yawn. When he sat back up, she was rubbing the sleep from her eyes and yawning once again. As much as he would love to spend the night joking and crafting on the floor with Pidge, Matt’s big brother instincts kicked in.

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed, go on.” He nodded and the bed and she complied, shimmying under the covers and then holding them open for Matt expectantly. He rubbed the back of his neck and winced, “I’m not really tired, Kat,” he lied.

“Does it look like I care? If I have to sleep, so do you. ‘It’s necessary for human health and growth!’” She imitated a chipper tone like she’d heard the phrase a lot before.

“Was that Lance?” Matt chuckled.

“No, Coran.” She smiled and indicated the open blanket again. “Come on, I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight unless I have a physical reminder you're really here and alive and not a figment of my imagination. Stop being such a wet noodle.”

“Fine, but I'm not sleeping”” he half acquiesced, smiling at her poor attempt at encouragement before sliding under the covers.

“God, you're such a whiny baby. _Lights off!_ ” She gave the command to the room and the once too bright lights turned off, plunging the room into darkness. Seconds later, her hand snaked into his own. With their fingers intertwined, a warm assurance that they are in fact together once again, Pidge drifted almost immediately to sleep.

 

Matt sat in the darkness, enveloped in the warmth of the blanket and the other body beneath it. He’d been sleeping on a bed roll for months, and before that the floor. The feeling of the soft Altean bed beneath him was arguably one of the most soft things he’d ever felt, and the rhythmic breathing beside him calmed his noisy mind. Matt found himself struggling to keep his eyes open against this barrage of comfort. 

He would have gotten up if Katie didn't have a firm hold of his hand.

But, alas, she did, and he would sooner cut off his hand then pry it from his sleeping sister’s grasp. 

 

Matt fought back against the unconsciousness with schematics and blinking eyes against a dark room. But, soon, he too fell victim to the sand man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's funny that in Lady and the Tramp, Tramp calls Lady 'Pidge' a lot. Indicating 'Pidge' is an old-timey slang for a female, and it was.
> 
> This is me citing my sources. (http://www.kgbanswers.com/in-the-movie-lady-and-the-tramp-why-does-tramp-call-her-pigeon/4065160). 
> 
> I like to think Pidge knew that, and it was her own little inside joke going undercover as a boy with a name that was basically an affectionate term for a girl. Because I'm sure it would be hilarious for her knowing what it meant and watching no one catch on.
> 
> lol anyways! Thank you so much for reading! I hope it was good! Let me know if it wasn't. Or if it was. Or neither. Whatever is gucci. (:
> 
> Have fantastic weeks everybody
> 
> (PS. I'm once again a bit behind on comments but I will respond ASAP)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt fell asleep, and that was his first mistake.

The moment Matt realized he was asleep, he bolted upright.

“No.” He made a mistake. “Damn it!”

It had been a while since his last dream, but the time didn't really make him forget what they were like. And the time did nothing to numb the sense of dread that immediately overwhelmed him as he stared into the familiar obsidian void.

He felt smaller too, gangly and weak. Tentatively he reached to feel the glasses he knew would rest on his face. His heart sunk as they made contact with the thin wire frames. He reverted back to how he was before Kerberos. 

He was an idiot.

He let himself fall asleep. 

“Shit, shit, shit shit!” It was a fight or flight reaction, and Matt decided his best chance was in the flight. He pushed himself onto his feet and started running. There wouldn’t be an end to the inky abyss, it would stretch onward forever. Finding the exit was something he’d tried before, and he also knew from experience that no amount of self inflicted pinching or pain would wake him up. His only hope now was to run fast enough that _it_ wouldn’t find him as quickly, and even that was really just stalling the inevitable. 

 

“Hello, _Genius,_ ” The title rolled off the disembodied lips sarcastically. It was an insult, but that's not why it made Matt shiver. “Long time no see.”

Matt blindly pushed himself to run faster, taking note of the way fatigue numbed his underdeveloped body much faster than it would now. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, pushing himself against the tired numbness. Suddenly his legs stopped, held in place by an invisible force as his body lurched forward sending the boy sprawling. He stayed on all fours, eyes downcast, as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel the body above his staring at him, practically daring him to look up, but he was going to drag out the beginning of the dream the longest. 

He’d likely be asleep for well over 12 hours based on previous experience, and he would rather spend that time avoiding _it_ that seeing what it wanted to show him.

“Haven’t been sleeping well lately I take it?” It asked in a lilting voice, “Let me guess, led your little rebellion to their premature deaths?”

“No!” Matt responded despite himself.

“Well, that’s too bad.” Matt heard a resigned sigh, but refused to take his eyes from the black ground beneath him.“When are you going to stop these games, Matthew? What are you playing at? You can't honestly think your rebellion’s efforts are doing anything worthwhile.”

“Every little thing helps-” The man above him barked out a laugh.

“Don't make me laugh!” Suddenly the toe to a uniform he’d long since abandoned was underneath his shoulder, pushing up until Matt was forced from all fours into a kneeling position. He tore his eyes away and back to the ground before he could give it the satisfaction of being seen. 

The specter growled before the boot was back, landing squarely on Matt’s chest and sending him sprawling onto his back. With the air squarely knocked out of him, Matt couldn’t avoid looking at the figure above him any more. “Stop ignoring me.”

It looked exactly like he remembered it. 

It looked like him.

He hated that it looked like him.

Tall, muscular, smiling. The thing wore the armor he’d been given for missions when he worked under Zarkon. It’s shaggy hair fell haphazardly around it’s face, framing the glowing, disdainful yellow eyes. Matt hated those eyes almost as much as he hated that smirk. “Did ya miss me, Genius?”

“Please leave me alone.” He mumbled futilely, and the yellow eyed Matt laughed like he told a brilliant joke. “There’s nothing you can say that you haven't told me before.”

“Don't question my ingenuity! I am, after all, you.” It gave a predatory smile before crawling onto the ground beside Matt and peering down at it’s younger self contemplatively.“You really are pathetic you know? All those brains of yours and you let yourself stagnate. You directly run from the opportunity to become something _better,_ to _do_ something _better._ And all for the sake of people who don't even recognize how great you really can be.”

Matt pushed himself off the floor with acrimonious abruptness. It was maybe silly, but he didn't want his dream self to be taller than him for another moment. It was a power play. He stared down at himself, contorting his face into the best scowl he could conjure before spitting “ _You_ don't get to tell me what’s ‘better.’”

In a flash, his dream self was on _it’s_ feet. It’s eyes flashing with murderous intent and face twisting into a grin. Matt stumbled as he took a step away from the figure now looming entirely to close.

“And why, pray tell, can't I?” 

“What you and Zarkon had me do wasn't great. I killed on command, I-“

“Oh shut up with this false sense of propriety!” It waved its hand in the air like dispelling a foul scent, “I’m sick to death of hearing your flimsy excuses when the facts. are. right here.” It spread its arms and suddenly there were more than two figures in the void. A lot more than two. “Take a look around Genius. Someone without an inclination towards killing couldn’t have possibly created such an impressive count.”

Matt slammed his eyes shut and swallowed around the sick feeling in his stomach. He knew this was coming, just not so soon. He was stupid to have fallen asleep. So _stupid._

“I said look!” And he did look, against his will as the dream forced his eyes open without his permission. 

He saw each and every one of them. Every face, every brutal wound he inflicted or helped inflict. All the figures that haunted his conscious now crowding around him in a circle so dense he couldn’t begin to count the numbers. Some with names, some without. The worst were the ones he couldn't even remember doing. A choked sob escaped him.

“Please don't do this.” He pleaded to the dream Matt who looked only vaguely amused. At Matt’s request it let out an incredulous laugh.

“Do what, Genius?! I haven’t done anything. _You_ have! You say I don't need to repeat myself, but you keep forgetting even this most basic fact. _You. Are. A. Killer._ ”

“I _know._ ” Matt noted how strained his voice sounded. “I know that, but I’m trying to get better. They don't blame me.” He thought of Rin and Sassy, Unyu and the others. He thought of Shiro. “They said it wasn't my fault.”

He barked out another laugh “If not your’s than who’s, Matthew?”

“Zarkon’s!”

“You really are an idiot now.” Yellow eyes flashed again and the figure prowled forward, forcing Matt to step back and closer to the burnt and angry looking remains of Balthier. “Zarkon was your liberation. He gave you opportunities to train, he gave you enhancements and strength. It was you and you alone who shunned your responsibility and led your cell to their death. It was you alone who killed and killed and _killed_ under Zarkon’s request, never complaining. Enjoying it.”

“I didn’t!”

“Oh Shut. UP. Genius, I was _there._ ” It got close enough that only a few inches separated their faces, and the dream Matt sneered down at him. A feeling of doom radiated off of the specter, and Matt wondered if this was how trapped animals felt. It tapped his forehead and spoke like Matt was imbecilic and disappointing. “I’m always there! I know you found it easy, and now you're avoiding it because some idiots think it’s wrong. Is it wrong for an artist to paint? Is it wrong for Galileo to speculate the inaccuracy of geocentrism? Only the uninspired would agree. You just don't belong with them anymore!”

“They’ve forgiven me!” Matt tried to shove the figure crowding his space, but his hands moved through empty air as it stepped out of the way.

“Is it really your living friends who’s forgiveness you should be seeking?” It took another calm step backwards and smirked as it slipped between the standing reminders of everything Matt regretted. As it placed a hand on a furious looking Smitty, still sporting the gaping chest wound, Matt’s trepidation turned to anger. He snarled, unable vocalize real words as he barreled furiously towards his dream self. It laughed in response and dived further into the unmoving crowd of living-dead. 

“You only belong in the Empire Matt. To the Empire!” Its voice echoed from somewhere to his left and Matt spun just to see a vague silhouette dash out of his vision. He ran after it. “They just pity you, you know!”

“Shut up!” Matt yelled as he got closer, the shadow periodically looking over its shoulder and laughing, which only served to infuriate Matt more.

“Useless, weak, _afraid!_ ” It cackled as it weaved haphazardly. “Nothing without Zarkon.” 

“SHUT UP!” 

“Maybe he should just find and kill them all so you have to come back. Rin and Sasssssy.” Its voice went up an octave like it was some hilariously laid prank finally falling into place, “We’d start with Shiro though, of course.”

“AHHG” Matt got close enough to swing and so he went for it, bringing the fist back as he ran and throwing it forward. He missed completely. “I won't let you hurt them!” He charged at the yellow-eyed Matt and it peered mirthfully over its shoulder before giggling and dancing out of Matt’s reach.

“Maybe Zarkon will get creative and find a way to start with _Katie._ ” If Matt could kill a dream with rage alone, the thing would be a writhing mess on the floor already. But instead it was coming to a stop and sending it’s fist so heavily into Matt’s face that he was forced back.

“Matt!” It’s voice called out, twisted and warped as the darkness in front of him became blurred and stretched, messy. It was darkness rolled in like a fog and he struggled to see the body of dream Matt among the other shadowy figures. He never struggled to find the glowing eyes, though. Or the gleaming grin.

“Matt!” It yelled again, sounding distinctly high-pitched and childish. Calling on a self from even farther before the Kerberos mission wasn’t going to make him sympathize with the monster. He ran randomly looking for sight of it. He’d kill the dream self, and then it wouldn’t be able to torment him anymore. “Matt!”

“Come and get me!” He called into the shifting darkness, spreading his arms wide. Without warning, a fist shot out of the darkness and into his head. It was a cheap shot resulting in Matt on his back, grunting in pain.

Matt blinked blearily against the spots in his vision to find it even darker than before. He could hear the laughter resonating in his head and echoing off the walls, and it made his blood boil. It took him a while to completely come back to himself, but, as he did, he saw it. Dream Matt was leaning over him, the only features visible in the dark were his predatory grin and luminescent eyes. Matt’s shoulders were pinned down as the other gripped him tightly. 

_You’re Zarkon’s killer. You belong in the Empire._

 

Angry. He was angry, and dream Matt was finally in his grasp. 

Matt lifted his arms and pushed at its shoulders, sending it flying farther than he would have thought possible. The shadow tumbled onto the floor, and Matt heaved himself out of bed to follow. Bed? He’d think about why _that_ was summoned by the dream later, maybe some weird subconscious Freud thing. But, for now, all he wanted to do was get to his dream self before it managed to get away again.

_Maybe he should just find and kill them all so you have to come back._

His Galran eyes should be able to see in the dark, but clearly the dream was preventing it because all he could make out was the dark silhouette standing a few feet away. It was on its feet once again and slowly backing away from Matt.

_We’d start with Shiro though, of course._

“Shut up!”

He rushed his dream self and pushed it to the floor, straddling the devil and slamming down on it’s shoulders when it tried to get up. It’s glowing eyes took on a simpering tilt, smile splitting to release a hapless laugh. Even up close it’s face was shadowy save for the two features.

_Maybe Zarkon will get creative and find a way to start with Katie._

“Shut up!” Matt’s hands snaked around its throat and squeezed. The head lolled backwards and nails dug into his wrists as it fought for freedom, but nothing quieted the laughter as it spilled silently from it’s lips and directly into Matt’s mind, “Shut up! SHUT UP SHUT UP!”

“MATT!” The light clicked on, momentarily blinding Matt before he was dragged away from the yellow-eyed Matt by his shoulders. He fought against the grip, snarling and kicking, so close to finally killing the monster tormenting his dreams. He couldn’t see straight, the room was spinning and he couldn’t breath. The grip on his shoulder was oppressive, and he was getting dangerously close to losing control.

“Let me go!” He snapped,“Let me kill it!”

“Matt, it's me Shiro! Relax! What happened?!”

“Shiro?” Matt’s voice sounded far away as the world fought to come into focus. Shiro didn't belong in the dream. His rampage was put on pause as confusion overtook him and the sinking feeling in his stomach. There was ripped up cloth strewn haphazardly across his floor, and Shiro was crouched in front of him, arms holding his shoulders steady. Behind Shiro, a few other pajama-clad paladins stood in the doorway looking at him with what would only be described as absolute horror. 

 

He didn’t want to look and see what could have caused those looks. He didn’t want to know how he’d messed everything up already.

Matt slowly turned himself around to look at where he knew the dream Matt should be.Where he _had_ to be. 

 

There was nothing on the floor where Matt had just been, but uncomfortably close was his younger sister. Katie had pushed herself up against the wall and curled into a ball. There was a mark in the shape of fingers around her neck, bruises clearly in the making. But the worst part was her eyes. 

Her eyes looked terrified, and they looked terrified of Matt.

“I don't understand. What’s going on?” He asked no one in particular, voice wavering.

“We need _you_ to tell us that Matt,” Shiro sounded as calm and gentle as ever, and Matt wanted to be sick. He wasn’t stupid, he could see where this was going. “We came in here because we heard you yelling and when we found you… you were trying to kill Pidge, Matt.”

“What no… I-I wouldn’t” Matt swallowed and tried again, “It wasn’t…I was hallucinating. I fell asleep, and it made me… I didn’t know it was Katie.” 

“…I know you didn’t.” Shiro sounded more nervous than sure,“it might be better if you slept separately, though. Were going to get her to the med bay to make sure she’s alright. I want you to stay here and get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Shiro stepped past Matt, careful not to touch the shaken boy, and helped Katie to her feet. Her eyes never left Matt as she cautiously edged past him, the horror and abject betrayal etched into her every feature. Katie folded in on herself as the paladins swarmed around her, protecting her from Matt’s view. When the metal door slid shut, sealing him once again in his solitary confinement, Matt couldn't help but feel as bereft as his cold, empty, and silent room.

Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind he could hear the muted sound of his own laughter.

_You’re a killer, Matt._

“Fuck!” Matt yelled into the empty silence, slamming his fists against the floor. It did nothing to ward off the despair swimming in his stomach.

 

It hadn’t even been a full night on the Castle of Lions, and Matt already knew he shouldn't have come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit shorter, but like enough angst for one week I think. Lol
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think (:
> 
> I forgot to mention earlier but I'm camping this weekend and there's no wifi to connect my laptop too. I'll update once I get home


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I quit at summaries. This is from Shiro's POV.

Pidge stumbled out of the healing pod and into Shiro’s awaiting arms about an hour after being put in. She was physically fine after what happened, some more serious bruising was the worst of the damage done on that front, but Shiro wasn’t really worried about how she was _physically._

The med bay was quiet, the only sounds being dull mechanic beeping and whirring noises, and the lights were dimmed. Shiro had insisted the rest of the team go back to bed while he waited to make sure Pidge was okay. What happened that night was unexpected, and, frankly, probably pretty traumatizing to Pidge. He wanted an opportunity to talk to her before the rest of the team could bombard her with a barrage of well-meaning question. 

Some of them could be a little less than gentle with things like this.

Pidge sluggishly blinked up at him before slowly pushing away and testing out her balance. She wobbled a little before giving Shiro a reassuring nod.

“Water?” She rasped, wincing a little and pointing at her throat. Shiro grabbed a cup from the table behind him and watched as Pidge downed it in one go. Swiping the back of her hand across her mouth to catch any leftover liquid, she gave Shiro a wavering smile. “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he took a seat at the table and nodded to the other.

“I’ve been better,” Pidge mumbled and slid into the seat across from him. She looked older, and stressed, as if this one night added a couple of years to the youngest member of Voltron’s life. She sighed as she squeezed the bridge between her eyes, grabbing her glasses from the table and slipping them on before asking, “Has Matt-has _that_ ever happened before Shiro? What even was that?”

“I was actually hoping you could tell me what happened Pidge?” He tried to look encouraging, but couldn't quiet stop his hands from shaking. “That never happened when I was with him, and it ended once we got there.”

“Shiro…” She started slowly, sounding unsure,“That was really scary. And I’m not saying that lightly. We fell asleep, and then, out of nowhere, he was thrashing around. I figured, y’no, it was a nightmare, so I tried to wake him up by calling his name. He didn’t respond so I tried shaking him and he just…I don't know. Snapped?” She gave an involuntary shiver. “He pushed me off the bed and then… I don’t-I have no idea what was causing it but he kept screaming at me to shut up.” Pidge winced,“Shiro, I couldn’t breath let alone talk. And then you guys came in. Frankly, I don’t think he knew who I was or where we were.”

She leaned in conspiratorially and almost whispered the next part,“The creepiest part was his eyes though. They are usually a little unsettling, yellow and all, but they were practically glowing. And he looked so…I don't know. Angry maybe. Desperate.” She paused and gave Shiro a leveling stare “What really happened to him? I don't think a work camp would cause nightmares like that. Plus, when I was trying to, you know, get out, his hands were way too solid. I wasn’t thinking about it, but the gloves and everything _are_ a little weird. Does he have something like your arm? I think you know a lot more than you're letting on about my brother, Shiro, and I want you to tell me.”

For a fifteen year old, Pidge had an uncanny way of figuring things out. 

“Pidge, I know you’re worried about him, but I don't think it’s my place to tell you anything about Matt’s time with the Galra. I think you should ask him yourself.”

“Do you really think he’ll tell me?”

Shiro paused. 

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Pidge gave a noncommittal shrug, but looked like she had a whole list of reasons on mind. 

“I think… it can’t hurt to try.” He offered.

“Maybe you’re right.” Pidge yawned, “Thanks for waiting for me, but I think I’m going to go to my room now. Goodnight Shiro.”

And she ambled off, leaving Shiro alone with the eerie glow of the pods and the silent room. He waited a few minutes, and then followed after her.

 

Shiro was worried. 

No. Worried didn't quite encompass it. He was concerned, apprehensive, distressed, tense, and a whole list of other aptly chosen adjectives.

And, though Pidge was the one who got hurt, he was less worried for her than he was for Matt.

It was clear Pidge didn’t blame Matt, anyone could tell. And, with the new puzzle of his time with the Galra occupying her mind, she didn’t seem as traumatized as Shiro might have expected. If anything, she seemed like she might be harboring a bit of worry for him herself. 

However, knowing Matt, he was going to blame himself. And he was going to feel horrible about it.

 

Shiro stopped in front of his own room and spared a glance at the door across the hall. He could imagine Matt behind it, probably pacing, desperate to find something to occupy his mind, and Shiro’s stomach twisted at the thought.

With two steps he was across the hall and knocking on the door.

“Matt?” he called, and, when he was met with silence, he opened the door for himself. The two had shared a single room while with the rebels, so he was less worried about incurring Matt’s wrath for invading his privacy than he was worried about leaving the brunette alone.

On the floor, in the center of the room, Matt sat cross-legged. In his hands, he was holding strips of cloth like he intended to do something with them, but the boy sat still. His face was blank as he stared, unblinking ahead, deep in thought.

If his looks were at all indicative of how he felt, then Matt was miserable. The black rings around his eyes stood at a striking contrast to his unnaturally pale skin. His hair sat even wilder than usual, looking like he’d repeatedly run his fingers through the loose curls. Shiro…wasn’t sure what he should do. 

“Matt?”

Matt broke from his stupor at the sound of Shiro’s voice, eyes widening before shooting up to meet the other’s. He scrambled to his feet and ran to Shiro, face painfully contorted around a worried frown.

“Oh my God, is she okay? Is Katie all right? I didn’t- she’s okay, right?” He asked desperately, hands knotting in the fabric of Shiro’s shirt.

“She’d fine Matt, a little shaken, but fine.” Matt collapsed on himself with the news. Exhaling a breath as his muscles went slack, his grip on Shiro’s shirt the only thing keeping him standing.

“Oh thank god.” He whispered.

“Matt,” Shiro untangled the shorter boy’s hands from his clothes and ventured to ask,“are _you_ okay?”

Matt gave an incredulous snort. Shiro didn’t know what he was expecting but that wasn’t it.

“What?” He asked.

“I’m not sure if you noticed Shiro, but I tried to kill my sister.” Matt’s face darkened, “I’m not the person you should be worried about.”

“Of course I should be, Matt. I already talked to her… She’s not mad at you, if that what you're worried about. She knows it wasn't on purpose.”

Matt let out an uncharacteristically empty laugh.

“Of course she isn’t.” He rubbed the back of his hands against his eyes, pausing before mumbling more to himself than to Shiro,“What the fuck am I doing here?”

“Hey,” Shiro’s heart plummeted at the muttered statement and he reached out to grasp Matt’s shoulders. The smaller boy’s head lolled back as he looked up at him. Matt wasn’t showing the usual signs that he was about to have a panic attack, but somehow this was worse. Shiro knew what to do to help with panic attacks, but this, this broken defeated look, it was new. 

And he didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t say that. You belong here Matt, we already talked about that. It was just a nightmare, I get them too sometimes.”

“It’s not the same…I don't think- they aren’t” Matt sighed, “I think you should go, Shiro.”

“What?” Shiro’s mouth went dry.

“It’s not-you don't understand. I’m sorry, but I think I want to be alone right now.”

“Matt?”

The smaller boy slipped from beneath Shiro’s hands and took a step back, expectantly staring at Shiro as if willing him to take his leave. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, goodnight Matt.”

And he left.

 

———

 

Shiro would like to have said it got better from there. He would have _loved_ to say that. But that night his sleep was fitful at best, and the next day wasn’t any better. 

Expectantly, there was a lot of questions in the morning. What happened? Was everyone okay? Was Matt dangerous? Coran and Allura didn’t sleep in the same corridor as the paladins, so they hadn’t been there to see what happened. That didn’t stop them from being just as worried about the safety of having Matt on board as those who had been there, though. 

However, with Shiro assuring them nothing like that ever happened before, and Pidge insisting it wasn't Matt’s fault, the rest of the team was eventually swayed, if a bit hesitant.

Unfortunately, as Shiro expected, Matt wasn’t so easily convinced. 

When it got around dinner time and there was still no sign of the older Holt, the members of team Voltron decided to make an effort to coax him out of his room.

Hunk tried bringing Matt dinner, food goo enhanced with an expert mix of the spices he got from the rebel camp. Hunk stood at the door for far too long claiming he wanted Matt to be “the first one to try my new recipe!”

The door stayed shut.

Coran tried to entice Matt to leave by offering to show him the lab where they kept their advanced most Altean technology. He even went so far as to explicitly ask Matt to try and help fix something Shiro forgot the pronunciation for moments after it was said.

The door stayed shut.

Keith and Lance stopped by to ask if he wanted to go for a swim with them, Allura asked for his advice regarding the rumors of a Prince Lotor, and Pidge tried, more than once, to just force her way inside. Apparently, Matt imposed a lockdown on his room that even she couldn’t override from the outside.

And so, the door stayed shut.

Every time Shiro walked past the closed door it was an uncomfortable jab to the gut and rising levels of anxiety. And, considering Matt’s room was across the hall from his, he unfortunately walked past it quite frequently.

 

It wasn’t until the next morning at breakfast that Matt drifted ghostlike into the dining room, seemingly just barely corporeal. His silent personage going unseen until he took a seat at the far end of the table.

“Matt?” Pidge started in surprise, and six heads swiveled towards the him. Matt gave Pidge an uncomfortable look before glancing away, giving the rest of them a tired smile and a little wave.

“Good morning everyone. Hunk, if the offer still stands, I’d love to try your recipe.”

And there it was. Seats changed in a flurry as the paladins shifted like a game of musical chairs to sit closer to the yellow eyed teen. He was presented his own plate of food goo, drinks, and plenty of opportunities to join in on the conversation. Shiro tried to discreetly gauge Matt’s reaction from his own seat, tried to decipher how he was doing. The paladins chattered around Matt who sat blinking morosely at his food goo, tepid smile unwavering. And, when the plates were cleared and the paladins dispersed to take up their own tasks, he watched Coran exuberantly bound from the room with Matt in tow, promising to finally “Fix that blasted Pilmellor!”

Matt didn’t hide away in his room after that, but to say everything got better would be a lie. He helped Coran with little fixes around the castle throughout the day, only taking any real breaks to eat and train in the fighting simulator. The ginger Altean expertly filled the silence with his own excited chatter, excusing Matt from having to provide his own and letting his mind wander. Shiro couldn’t help but notice how far away Matt always seemed to look, how reclusive he became. How little he talked to anyone, including Shiro.

Sure, he’d chat, make small jokes, but the smiles seemed more forced than usual, the laughs a little uncomfortable. At night, Shiro noticed he spent his time alone in the lab or beneath the stars, working on a laptop as opposed to sleeping. And, it would seem, the longer he went without sleeping and eating regularly the more irritable and standoffish Matt became.

Every bad habit, the avoiding sleep and the skipping meals, the way he’d drown himself in tasks to avoid people, Matt blanketed himself in each one. Stacked one on top of the other, brick by brick in an unhealthy wall, a barricade separating him from the others. Every day his worry about not belonging on the Castle becoming more and more realistic.

 

Patience yields virtue. 

Shiro just needed to be patient. 

It had to be a big change, living on the Castle. Especially with everything that happened. Matt was likely just working through some things, and Shiro had to give him the space and time he needed.

The problem was, he couldn’t. Not for the life of him.  
And even if not talking to Matt wasn’t driving him crazy, which it _was,_ Shiro couldn’t ignore the desperate worried looks Pidge cast his way after sitting through another tense meal.

 

But he didn't know what to _do._

Because when Shiro tried to initiate conversation, it was empty. When he gave the smaller boy little reminders to take care of himself, like he had back at the camp, he was met with frowns and blatant ignoring as opposed to the thankful smiles he was used to.

And, God, Shiro _knew_ he was being annoying, but he couldn't help but worry. Matt was right, Shiro didn’t understand. He couldn't comprehend what happened to make Matt withdraw so completely. He didn’t mean to hurt Pidge, no one blamed him. So why? There had to be something Matt wasn’t telling him.

Shiro found himself prying, hovering even. Following Matt around throughout the day just to check up on him. Telling him to sleep, despite the increasingly frustrated glares, trying to get the boy to open up in vain. And Shiro hated what he was doing, but he _couldn’t stop!_

 

They say you don't know what you have until it’s gone, but Shiro always knew what he had. He always appreciated Matt, loved spending time with him. 

But, evidently, he vastly underestimated his dependence on the brunette.

He had a little space carved out in his chest that used to be filled Matt’s warm smiles. The empty chasm was now a dull ache that throbbed whenever he made eye contact with the new indifferent expressions. He felt a little colder as he walked the halls alone, missing the warmth of a body he never imagined wouldn’t be beside him.

Every time he forced his presence on the smaller teen he felt unbearably clingy, but he just wanted, no, needed to try and do something. He couldn't stomach Matt looking so despondent, couldn’t stand the lack of jokes and the nauseating way Matt’s hands lay dead at his side when he spoke. 

 

He felt antsy the longer he went without his friend, like he was an unreachable scratch or an unquenchable thirst. He could see that worried glances were now being sent in his direction as well as Matt’s, but he couldn't make himself care. His mind became focused, tunnel vision on the visage of inky under eye bags and increasingly snide remarks beneath a mop of shaggy hair. Because, no matter what, he missed Matt, and it was unbearable.

His gut twisted every time yellow eyes scrolled right past him without stopping. 

He wanted to yell when the lissom frame shrugged away from his touch.

The empty chasm in his chest grew every time he looked to Matt, expecting to share a grin only to find apathy.

And thick dread settled in his stomach like a heavy stone when he realized that the cold eyes and slight frowns on Matt’s face still made him feel giddy and warm all over. That his unyielding, unbearable desire to just be near Matt couldn't possibly stem from friendship when that friendship had been absent for weeks.

 

He glanced at Matt’s face, framed by the ever-untamed mass of hair, and couldn't dream of ignoring the way his heart thumped.

Because maybe you _don’t_ ever know what you have until it’s gone. Or maybe it takes loosing someone to realize what _exactly_ it was that that person meant to you. Because maybe it takes losing your friend to realize that you didn’t want to be friends anyways.

 

Shiro didn't know exactly how to help, but he couldn’t ignore Matt’s struggle. He maybe wasn’t welcome, but, for reasons he didn’t yet want to acknowledge, watching Matt be unhappy felt like a constant knife to the chest.

Shiro was going to intervene. He was going to help his _friend_ get better, and then he could maybe begin to question exactly what it all meant now that what he had was gone. And then he could start to question what it was he wanted now. Even if he already knew the answer.

 

———

 

Shiro peaked into the training room after being told from Coran that he might find the older Holt there. Matt was fighting hard against a gladiator bot, sweat dripping from his hair as he used his staff to aggressively ward off incoming attacks. He was red faced and looking as angry as he was exhausted. 

Shiro had been thinking about what he could possibly do to help Matt if all of his earlier approaches were shut down before they were made, and he finally had a plan. If he was right, Matt hadn’t slept in two days, and, so, the stage was perfectly set.

 

“Simulation Off.” Shiro voice resounded throughout the room and the bot froze mid-attack, sword halting in its trajectory above its head before the whole things slumped forward, inactive. Matt let out an exasperated and annoyed breath, turning to Shiro with a pronounced scowl on his face.

“Shiro, if you don't mind, I was in the middle of something, ‘Simulation On.’” The bot reared up and Matt slipped into a defensive stance.

“Simulation Off.” Shiro said again, stepping in from the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest. Matt’s scowl deepened, face contorting with barely repressed anger.

“Excuse me? What do you think you’re doing?” Matt seethed.

“Matt, you need to go to bed. You’re exhausted.” His tone was level, and his face stern. 

Matt barked out a laugh.

“Oh my _God_ Shiro. Stop! You're driving me crazy! I’ll sleep when I want _dad,_ but thanks ever so much for checking up on me again and again and again. ‘Simulation on!’” He sneered before preparing to fight once again, this time an offensive position. The robot reared back and Matt ran forward, staff raised and ready attack.

“Simulation Off.” The bot halted but Matt didn't, violently smashing his weapon into the machine, making the metal crumple in around the staff and the gladiator fall to the floor in a disfigured mass. Matt swung at it again for good measure before whipping his staff against the wall and turning to Shiro, eyes ablaze. He stomped towards the taller boy face red and murderous. Shiro met his gaze steadily, and this only made Matt snarl as he jammed his finger into Shiro’s chest.

“What the _FUCK_ is your problem Shiro?!” He raged, “I’ve already made an effort to talk to everyone _and_ eaten today, so let do what the _fuck_ I want! I am an adult _thank you,_ and I know more information about how long the human body can function on minimal to no sleep than you could even fathom existed! I. Am. Fine!”

The smaller boy may have been looking up at Shiro, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. Toned arms rippled threateningly, and Matt seemed to physically hold himself back from lashing out at Shiro. 

But, mission in mind, the older boy wasn’t planning to back down.

“I don't need to know exact facts to know that staying awake for close to 50 hours straight isn’t healthy, Matt. And it’s affecting you, you're tired and slow all the time, you hardly eat, you’re irritable, and today Coran said you almost blew up the ship! You need to sleep Matt!”

“Oh my God! It was one minor mistake, I can’t read Altean, how would I know that solvent was combustible!?” He paused, eyebrows scrunching together. “And I’m not irritable! I am a _scientist_ Shiro, I’ve pulled more all nighters than I can count. Heck, at the Garrison I would go days without sleeping, relying only on Mountain Dew and Doritos to keep me functioning, so _I think I’ll manage._ ” He turned and stalked off to retrieve his staff from where lay abandoned against the wall. The boy’s entire body was tense, and he walked with a stiff posture that looked almost painful. It probably wouldn’t fix everything, but he needed to sleep. That could be the start, something just to get him thinking clearly again, and Shiro needed to make it happen.

“Fight me!” He called to Matt. 

The smaller boy looked over his shoulder, confused.

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s fight. If I win, you go to sleep. If you win, I stop giving you reminders.” 

Matt raised an eyebrow and turned completely to face Shiro. “I think you mean nagging.”

Shiro sighed. “Okay, I’ll stop nagging. So, deal?”

A slow, cocky smirk spread across Matt’s lips before he cocked his head to the side, placing his hands on his hips.

“If I recall correctly Shiro, last time we fought, I beat you handedly. You sure you wanna make this bet?” He was teasing Shiro, but the older boy smiled in return. It was all falling into place.

“Ya, well, last time I was exhausted and sweaty. This time, that’s you. Heck, you’re hardly even functioning, so _‘I think I’ll manage.’_ ” He repeated what Matt said to him earlier and met the latter’s intense gaze with one of his own. 

“Ooh boy. Careful there Hubris your wings might melt” Matt chuckled, anger melting into excitement over the challenge. “I will enjoy the peace and quiet after I win nonetheless!”

“Icarus had the wings Matt, that reference doesn't even make sense.”

“You don't even make sense.” Matt picked up his staff and deftly spun it in his hands,“Now say your prayers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I WANT TO SERIOUSLY SAY THANK YOU ALL SO SO SO SO MUCH FOR THE WELL WISHES FOR THE TEST YESTERDAY! I mean it! When I woke up the day after posting that update I was kind of worried, but all the nice comments made me stoked! If you were wondering, I think the test went really well. I may have bombed a single section but otherwise I think I did pretty good! I am no Elle Woods, but at least I won't fail!
> 
> SO, I worked super hard to get this chapter out by today as a thanks (: Thank you all!
> 
> If there are any mistakes or anything, let me know! Also let me know what you think! 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you have a fantastic day/night/life!!
> 
> (ALSO, posts might become every other week now that school has begun. If I can get it out faster I will try. Thankyou.)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's POV again

The two circled each other slowly, Shiro with raised and ready hands, Matt with a poised staff. It was silent, footfalls dully echoing throughout the large metallic interior of the practice room. Both boy’s faces were taut with focus, breathing steady and controlled. Matt may not have been at his best, but Shiro knew the younger boy enough to know that even at his current level he would be a formidable foe. One wrong move and he would lose, both the challenge and his last opportunity to help.

“Come on then, make your move. Or should we just circle each other all day.” Matt broke the silence. His lips curled into a joking smirk, but Shiro didn't miss the way his eyes remained calculating and devoid of humor as they raked over Shiro’s posture in search of a tell.

“I probably would if this fight wasn't so uneven,” said Shiro with a placid smile, “How about you drop the staff and make this fight more fair?”

“We never agreed the fight had to be a fair one. You should be more thorough with your challenges.”

Shiro gave a noncommittal hum and shrugged. Matt narrowed his eyes, but they continued their measured circling. 

Shiro didn't have to wait much longer before Matt made an impatient sound and frowned, his own tell letting Shiro know he’d be attacking first. In a flash, the brunette’s body went tense, his loose posture tightening like a snake coiling before the strike. And, like the snake, his strike was swift.

Matt rushed forward and Shiro settled into his stance, ready to react the moment Matt got within hitting distance. 

But Matt never did.

Matt stopped abruptly, well before getting within Shiro’s reach, and nimbly pivoted. He swung the staff from the unexpected direction, and Shiro, without time to dodge, blocked the blow with his forearm.

Matt didn’t stop attacking. He struck again and again with an unusual frenetic energy, deftly maneuvering around Shiro and keeping the stronger boy carefully out of reach between hits. Shiro was stuck on defense, a role he wasn't used to playing, as blow after blow was dodged and blocked. He couldn’t get close enough to really do anything with the weapon adding to Matt’s range.

He had to get rid of the staff.

Breathing uneven, Shiro swiveled away from another hit before running forward, arm raised. As expected, Matt held the staff in front of him horizontally in a block. He grinned at Shiro, likely reveling in his own self-given advantage.

Instead of punching, Shiro grabbed onto the weapon and yanked it backwards.

Eyes widening, Matt responded by pushing forward, frantically driving Shiro backwards in an effort to make him lose his footing. And that he did. Shiro’s feet tangled together in the backward sprint, sending the boy down. 

Instead of letting go, however, he pushed himself backwards with more force, using the momentum to drag Matt, in all his sputtering glory, down with him. And, with a slight tuck of his knees as he tumbled, Shiro planted his feet beneath Matt’s stomach as they hit the ground. Following through with the rolling motion, he kicked upwards, launching Matt overhead and prying his grip from the weapon.

Hands still tightly wound around the staff, Shiro jumped to his feet. He tossed it behind him and watched as it skittered across the floor, stopping as it hit the deformed remains of the gladiator bot Matt smashed earlier.

“Dang it.” Matt huffed and hoisted himself off the floor. His bedraggled look heightened by the fighting and punctuated by his flushed and sweaty appearance. Shiro took their short pause to soak in the image. With a begrudging smile, Matt shook his fist at his older friend, “Dang you, Shirogane. Have to make this difficult don’t you?”

Shiro smiled back, “Of course.”

And then _Shiro_ attacked.

Despite Matt’s slowing movements, the fight up until now had been almost evenly matched. Exhaustion made Matt’s fighting sloppier, but not enough to put him at an extreme disadvantage. And, with the staff, he was able to overcome that obstacle. 

However, without the staff, Shiro took the upper hand. Matt was back to his usual aversions, joint locking and throwing Shiro when he could. They traded blows as easily as breathing, and, after all the practice they’d had at the rebel camp, it came to them almost as easily. But that style of fighting is more precise, and, as the fight dragged on, Matt began to flounder. 

Soon, it was only Shiro getting hits in as Matt frantically tried to dodge and block the blows. His breathing became haggard, face pulled into a determined grimace as he came to the end of his energy reserves. 

 

Shiro could see the win in sight and made his move to end it.

 

Like a rabid animal backed into a corner, Matt lashed out with a last ditch burst of strenth. With an exasperated grunt he aimlessly swung out, somehow fitting the hit through Shiro’s defenses and just barely catching his chin. The surprise from the pain gave Shiro a brief pause, but it was just enough to distract him from blocking as the second fist that came flying towards him. 

Matt was just as surprised as Shiro when the second hit connected. The metal of Matt’s fist crashed into Shiro stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs and making him stumble a couple steps back and into the still frozen gladiator bot remains. Shiro tripped over it, teetering backwards before landing on his ass.

Shiro struggled to catch his breath as he pushed away from the metal remains, shaking and exhausted muscles preventing him from hauling himself up. Matt peered down at him as he caught his own breath and smiled. 

Matt took a careful step over the gladiator bot that had been Shiro’s downfall. He leaned down with some effort and picked up his bo staff. A contemplative look crossed his face as he turned his attention back to Shiro and took another step forward.

Shiro scrambled to think of some maneuvering or plan to give him the upper hand for just one more second. He couldn’t lose. _Everything_ was riding on this bet. He was so close to a win, but as he pushed himself onto his knees, he knew he didn't have it in his to wrestle the staff from Matt’s hands again. And, with it, Matt would absolutely win.

Matt took another step.

Shiro scanned the floor around him, the walls, heck Matt’s own body. He searched for something, anything, and then, as his gaze fell to the floor behind Matt, he shouted-

“Simulation on!”

“Wha-“ Matt’s eyes widened in surprise and he spun to face the wreckage behind him. It wasn't quickly enough though as the crumpled machine whirred to life. From the brink of death it made one last attempt to do it’s job, swinging it’s own weapon wildly and catching Matt behind the knees. The younger boy let out a yelp as his legs were swiped from under him and crashed to the ground in front of Shiro. 

Shiro pointed his sleeping Galran arm at Matt’s neck, a clear sign that, if it were a real fight, he had won.

Matt blinked dumbly up at Shiro, already flushed face growing redder as the circumstance settled in.

“That was a cheap shot.” he whispered, face contorting in anger,“That was a cheap shot, Shiro!”

Shiro removed his hand and let the younger man push away from him and stand up. 

“You cheated!” Matt was doubled over, red faced and panting as sweat dripped rapidly from his hair to the floor. The boy looked up again, and the fight in his eyes hadn’t so much flickered from existence as it had been swallowed up by something dark and desperate. “That’s not fair Shiro, come on.”

“We never agreed the fight had to be fair,” Shiro smiled apologetically at his friend, before reaching out to give him a hand. “I’m sorry Matt, but you lost.”

Matt batted his hand away. A flurry of expressions flitted across his face in quick succession. Panic, then anger, then guilt, and then defeat, all taking their turn and being written clear as day upon the boys face. Matt shrunk in on himself. 

“Shiro I can’t sleep.”

Matt looked impossibly small. He looked flighty, and tired, and resigned all at once. He looked, defeated for lack of a better word. 

Shiro frowned and stepped closer.

“Matt, can you tell me what’s wrong? I want to help. I won't laugh or say anything if you don't want me to, but something's wrong and I can’t just ignore it.”

Matt bit his lip. 

“Takashi, listen, I know you mean well, but I really can't.”

“Tell me why, Matt, and maybe I’ll agree to forget the bet?” Shiro tried, feeling vaguely relieved that Matt was talking to him at all.

The smaller boy breathed out a sigh before starting tentatively. 

“I just have really bad dreams, that's all,” he practically whispered, not making eye contact with Shiro. “I always have, but being back on a Ship, the stale air the lack of sunlight, it's making them worse. It used to be that if I stayed up long enough I just wouldn’t dream, but now, after what happened with Katie, it’s every night. Nothing I do helps. I can’t keep… they fuck me up, Shiro. Please don't make me.” 

Matt glanced hopefully at Shiro, dark eye circles looking black as if talking about sleep could summoned them. Shiro could feel the dread swirling in his stomach as the implications became clear. He frowned.

“What do you dream about?” He gently prompted the boy, stepping closer and reaching out to put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Matt flinched but didn’t try to remove it.

“I dream about my subconscious. He talks to me but he’s…” Matt swallowed and waved his hands as he searched for the right word.“Malicious? Mean? Scary? … His sneer could curdle dairy.”

Matt gave a long enduring and exhausted sounding chuckle and leaned into Shiro’s touch.

“It’s basically just me reminding myself how worthless and dangerous I am to have around.” He continued with a resigned shrug, failing to cover up the brief hopeless look that flashed across his face with nonchalance.“He reminds me of all the terrible things I’ve done, everyone I’ve killed, how little I deserve forgiveness…y’know the ushe.”

Matt’s words wavered as he spoke and Shiro listened attentively, stomach twisting with concern. He too suffered from nightmares, but nothing like that. Nothing like that at all. When it seemed like Matt was finished talking, Shiro wrapped him in his arms and whispered encouraging platitudes. The smaller boy trembled slightly in his grasp, letting himself get swallowed by Shiro’s comforting warmth. He still needed sleep, but this was… not good.

Shiro had to help.

 

“Hey Matt, what if you weren’t alone in your dreams?” Shiro questioned the boy in his arms once he calmed down.

“…What?” Matt pulled back and looked up at Shiro in confusion.

“I mean… ah… the Alteans have these helmets that let people sort of enter each other’s minds. We used them during training. What if we wore them while you slept and I went into your dream with you to make it less bad. I mean, I’m not sure if it will work but it might be worth a try?”

“I couldn’t ask you to do it.” Matt frowned, looking torn. “They’re really bad. Plus, I’m not so pathetic I can’t figure this out alone, I just need time. I’m not the weak little kid from the Garrison anymore, Shiro. I don't _need_ help.”

 

“I know you don’t, but, sometimes, you shouldn’t handle everything on your own,” Shiro’s words were slow, but certain. “It’s not weakness to rely on others. In fact, I think it takes a lot of strength admit you need help. And I want to be that help, Matt.You’re…” Shiro’s face went warm but if Matt noticed he didn't make any sign,“very important to me. Seeing you so unhappy is making me unhappy, so let's tackle the problem together.”

Matt blinked, brows furrowing in thought. Shiro smiled.

“Besides, it was my bet and you have to sleep since you lost, so I should at least try and help right?” Matt gave a surprised chuckle. 

“I guess so. It can’t hurt to try.”

Shiro, becoming all too aware of how close they were standing, awkwardly cleared his throat and extracted Matt from his arms. Not knowing what else to do, he patted Matt’s head. 

“Uhm… great! I’ll take a shower and get it ready. You take a shower too, you’re gross.”

Matt chuckled again before rolling his eyes and making his way to the door. 

Right before exiting he paused, one hand on the threshold, and turned around to face Shiro. 

“Thank you Takashi. I mean it. For everything… I really don't deserve to have you as a friend. And I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting lately.” And with that, Matt turned and left, leaving a slightly rose tinted Shiro to fix up the practice room and get the MindMelder, a small smile dancing across his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is like half size, but now that I'm back in school I don't think I'm gunna be able to do too much more. Senior year is a bitch that finds joy in assigning essays every damn day. And I am weak.
> 
> ANYWAYS!! THANK YOU FOR READING AND ALL THE NICE COMMENTS! (: I appreciate you all so very much and you're kind words are brightening my days in general, not even just in relation to the fic!
> 
> If you notice any mistakes, lemme know.
> 
> I hope you continue to enjoy! Have a great day! <3


	21. Chapter 21

To knock or not to knock, that was the question.

Shiro stood in front of Matt’s bedroom door, two Mindmelders in hand. He had raced through the process of finding the helmets and showering, nervous energy propelling him, but now, standing in front of Matt’s door, he couldn’t get his limbs to cooperate. 

To knock?

He was hovering. Shiro took a steadying breath and contemplated the dry state of his mouth. Too dry. He should get water. 

 

Before he could turn and flee, because if he was being honest with himself he was fleeing, the door in front of him slide open to reveal a bemused looking Matt. Shiro tensed like a deer in headlights.

“I could practically feel you lurking, Shiro. Why are you just standing out there?”

Matt took a step back to let Shiro in looking fresher than he had in weeks. Matt was cleaner, for one, but most notably it seemed like the shower’s hot water melted the ever-present tension to relaxed pensivity. His damp hair curled loosely around him head, messy from an obviously hastened towel dry. Periodically droplets would cut loose and drip onto his very visible shoulder blade. The boy was wearing a T-shirt that was way too big on him. The T-shirt was perfect on him.

“What are you, a vampire? No need to wait for someone to invite you in, Dracula.”

A teasing smirk pulled at Matt’s lips and Shiro’s eyes tugged away from the picture of their own accord. 

This maybe wasn’t as great as an idea as he had imagined.

“Who’s shirt it that?” Shiro asked, willing his feet forward to no avail. 

“Wha-Oh, I don't know, probably Hunk’s? It made its way into my laundry of its own accord and I…” he coughed awkwardly and scuffed his foot on the floor, pointedly ignoring the misshapen mass of cloth in the corner,“used my pajamas to make the rug.” 

Matt let out a forced laugh and shrugged, allowing the room to once again lapse into silence. Shiro looked back at his friend, and Matt winced.

“Why aren't you coming in?” Matt’s eyebrows knit together in confused concern, “Are you having second thoughts? You don’t have to do this you know. I won't be offended if you back out-“

Shiro sighed and let his shoulders slump.

“No.” Matt frowned and Shiro shifted under the gaze, taking his first step into the room “Sorry, I want to do this. I’m just nervous. I don't really know if it will work or not.”

Matt seemed to contemplate that for a moment, frown still firmly in place, before slapping his cheeks and letting a look of determination spark into existence on his face as he grabbed a helmet from Shiro.

“Alright!” Matt pumped a fist in the air and clambered into bed. He paused for only a second before slipping the tech over his head, jumping as a hazy image of Shiro flickered in and out of existence in front of his face. Matt leaned in and inspected the projection, letting out a low whistle. “Trippy. So, how does it work? I sleep and you just pop into my dream Freddy Krueger style?”

Shiro gave a tentative smile, “I have no idea.”

“Comforting.” Matt deadpanned and then frowned, “What are you doing?”

Shiro looked up from the floor where he was making himself comfortable.

“What?”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor while you help me. That would be poor manners.” The image in front of his face contorted and changed to a memory of their Kerberbros sleepover and Matt tried to wave it away with a scowl,“Come on, this bed is big enough for two people.”

And Shiro had never been happier to not be wearing a Mindmelder because if his furiously heating cheeks weren’t portraying his emotions enough, he was certain the machine would have.

One terse nod later, he was on top of the blanket and facing Matt in the quickly darkening room. 

“I’m really nervous Shiro” Matt whispered, voice a barely-there wisp as his exhaustion fought with his eyelids for dominance. The hazy projection cast a flickering glow across his face, illuminating his worried expression.“You sure this will work?”

“Honestly, no. It was hard for Voltron when we first tried, getting everyone to connect. But I think, if anyone could do it…”

“Its Team Shatt, right.” Matt finished his sentence with a meek smile and Shiro chuckled. “Alright, let’s give it a go.”

Shiro watched as Matt let out a resigned sigh and settled deeper into the blankets. The bed seemed to seep the tension from him, the Land of Nod quickly claiming its traitorous king. Within minutes his breathing slowed and shallowed, and Shiro was forced to quit watching lest he leave Matt alone for too long.

He slipped the tech onto his head and settled himself onto the bed. All he had to do was focus. Focus on Matt. He let the walls of his mind fall, sending out his thoughts in search of Matt’s. He could feel Matt tugging on his mind from somewhere far away, reaching out to him. It was difficult fighting through the fog of sleep, way more difficult than it had been with the paladins, but Shiro did. When he felt Matt’s presence strong enough, he latched on, letting their minds become one, and suddenly he wasn’t in the castle anymore.

 

Shiro stood in a dark abyss. He felt cold and clammy and _watched._ He looked around, “Matt?” his voice was swallowed by the silence, not a voice or echo sent back “Matt!”

He closed his eyes and focused. He wasn’t close enough. The boy felt far away again, but his psyche was desperately reaching out for Shiro’s, beckoning him like a lighthouse. Shiro focused, and reached towards it, suddenly feeling himself flying through the nothing with an uncomfortable tug.

 

“-useless. Zarkon made you something. You're nothing but an effective tool. The people you surround yourself with pity you, you're just a nuisance to them.”

Shiro opened his eyes at the sound of Matt’s voice. It was… wrong, for lack of a better word.

Shiro never heard his friend speak like that before, teasing sure, but never this _malicious._

Matt said he dreamed about his subconscious, but was _this_ really it?

Shiro turned towards the voice and immediately drew back. In front of him was the current Matt, yellow-eyed, muscular, and confident. He stood over a smaller figure that was crouched on the floor with his hands desperately trying to block the voice from his ears. The small figure was shaking, it mumbled incoherently to the Matt before it.

Shiro took stock of the sampler figure’s messy brown hair. His thin, lanky limbs. His big round glasses. 

He looked a lot like Matt, too. Matt from the Garrison.

“Matt?”

Both boys turned to the voice in surprise. The smaller Matt, the one on the floor, broke into a blinding grin. 

“You came.” A relieved sigh escaped between raspy breaths, “I didn’t think you were coming.” Shiro rushed to his side and crouched in front of him.

“It’s okay. You're safe now.” He rubbed his friends back, doing his best to calm him down.

“Champion?” The voice turned cold,“That is unexpected. You lied to us Matt. When did you leave the rebels?”

Matt winced and Shiro turned to face to dream. Drawing to his full height, he blocked Matt from view.

“Don’t talk to him.” He turned his arm on, ready to fight the distorted version of the Matt he knew, “In fact, you’re going to leave him alone from now on.”

A slow cat-ate-canary grin spread across its face as eyebrows shot upward. It let its finger tap along its lips, eyes drawn upward in mock contemplation, before it paused and poised the finger in a ‘eureka’ movement.

“Y'know what? I don't think I will.” It pointed at Shiro and his arm abruptly turned off. A nervous dread settled in his stomach as it began its slow prowl towards the boys, languid movement resembling a jungle cat. “See, the thing is Champion, you have no power here.”

Shiro pulled Matt to his feet and back the two of them away from the prowling dream only for them to bump into an invisible wall. 

“Are you so sure you want to protect this boy? Are you aware of all he’s done for the empire?” It was only a few feet away when it stopped. The dream leaned in and Shiro tensed, body still completely blocking Matt from view as the thing whispered,“All the people he’s killed?”

Shiro frowned,“It doesn’t matter what he’s done. It’s in the past.”

“Oh my!” It placed a hand over its heart in mock offense.“So forgiving! I wonder, though, if you really understand the extent.”

With a wave of a hand, the room was quickly filled with still humanoid shapes. There were a few species Shiro could recognize, but even more that he couldn't, and all at once he was overwhelmed by the sheer _number_ of bodies crowding around him and the two Matts.

“Surprising isn't it?” The yellow-eyed dream cackled “He was one of the deadliest killers Zarkon had.”

“It doesn’t matter” Shiro swallowed around the lump in his throat, ignoring the nagging voice that reminded him this was a lot of bodies. And if Matt had been just carrying this burden around…god, he didn't want to think about it. “It wasn’t his fault. We all know that.”

It blew out a disbelieving breath and rolled its eyes.

“Stop, please.” Matt rasped from behind Shiro, reminding the taller boy of his presence.

Shiro spun around and gripped Matt by the shoulders. The smaller teen shook in his grasp, eyes darting from face to face around them. His breathing picked up a notch and became irregular. Shiro could tell it was the beginnings of a panic attack.

“Matt look at me. Look.” Matt looked and his breathing hitches “breath. In out. Copy my breathing. Good. Listen to me Matt, this is _your_ dream. You can tell it what to do, you can make it stop.”

“Ee gats.” A cold laugh pulled Shiro’s attention away from his distraught best friend, and his fists clenched at his sides. It sneered, “pathetic.”

And just like that, Shiro was back on his feet, furiously rocketing towards the laughing, yellow-eyed dream with his first raised. Shiro swung, and right before his fist made contact the dream Matt blinked out of existence. The unmet momentum made Shiro stumble forward, and as quickly as the dream had disappeared it reappeared behind Shiro, shoving him forward and sending him to the ground. 

“Whoops.”

Suddenly Shiro was being hauled off the ground by the back of his shirt by a hulking humanoid beast with singed fur.

“Balthier has not had the chance to fight in too long! Do not disappoint little Champion!”

“Matt!” He yelled and locked eyes with Matt’s. The smaller teen’s eyes were blown wide, face contorted with a look of horror, “Matt I need to you stop it! You can stop it! I believe in you! You’re not alone in fighting this! Take your dream back Matt!”

And with that, the massive fist met Shiro’s side and sent him sprawling. It was a dream, so it didn’t necessarily hurt, but Shiro found himself virtually unable to fight back. It felt like he was wading through water as he tried to struggle, limbs slowly pushing through the heavy air. Shiro was getting hit more than he was dodging and being dodged consistently. 

Around them the ghosts of people Matt once knew watched and shouted, creating a cacophony of sounds that somehow managed to remain both uncomfortably loud and also quieter than the sounds of Not-Matt’s laughter rumbling in the background. Dully Shiro could hear Matt calling for him in the distance. He tried to respond with his own words of reassurance but his voice was put on mute.

It wasn’t really a fight, Shiro didn’t pose much of a challenge in this dreamscape. But, as it came to a close, and Shiro lay numb and bloodied at “Balthier’s" feet, he realized he was completely unable to help Matt. If anything, he’d made the whole experience worse. He was furious with himself. He felt like an idiot. Matt had tried to warn him, and he was too stubborn to listen. He peered up through swollen eyes once more and watched as Balthier raised his hands, fisted together, in preparation for what would be the final blow.

“Balthier was not impressed little Champion! No matter! Balthier will _Show. No. Mercy!”_

His fists came down with force, and Shiro closed his eyes in preparation for a blow that never came.

A piercing and clear “Stop!” halted the clamor around him. 

Shiro opened his eyes, and above him a frozen gladiator tapered in and out of existence like a poor television connection.The crowd around the two doing the same, until they all simply disappeared, leaving the black abyss empty once more.

Shiro pushed himself up from the floor, surprised to find the heavy feeling dragging his limbs down and the wounds he incurred only moments ago gone. Ahead of him, the two Matts stood in a showdown.

One, short and furious, tangled brown hair whipping around his head in a nonexistent windstorm. The other, tall and lean, yellow eyes narrowing in disgust.

“Shiro’s right. This is my mind, not yours. You’re not welcome here, and I won't sit by and listen anymore.” It scowled and looked down at Matt from the tip of its nose.

“You shouldn’t have the capacity to make that decision.” The figure turned its glare on Shiro.

“Yes, well, I’m nothing if not full of surprises.”

“You are a continued disappointment, Genius.” It spat, before its mouth twisted into a cheshire grin once more. It leaned in then, face only centimeters from Matt’s before saying, “You can't escape the Empire, Matt. Expect to hear from me again. Very soon.”

And, with a mock salute, the yellow-eyed Matt was gone, leaving a gobsmacked Shiro and his shaking best friend in its wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good lord, sorry for the delay. My life has been a bit hectic lately and i apologize. I will try and get to answering comments tonight but Im running mad late for work! 
> 
> If you find any errors let me know, I only did a quick read through for this chapter but I wanted to give you something! Thank you for being patient and I appreciate all your lovely comments and support! I'm going to try to be better in the future!! D:
> 
> Have lovely days!


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